


Particles

by discothequey



Series: Survival Tactics [1]
Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-15
Updated: 2012-01-15
Packaged: 2017-10-29 15:04:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 40,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/321175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/discothequey/pseuds/discothequey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The adventures of Brian, Justin, and their family eleven years post-s5.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Twelve Weeks

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, everyone. I will be gradually reposting some of my fiction over here as I rework/edit and update it. I don't know how long it will take, but I do plan to finish everything in the future (including and especially my WIPs). If you'd like to read everything as-is, you can find my work on LJ @ discofabuleux.
> 
> Also, PS: The title made sense when I originally posted it a couple years ago, as there was a quote that went with it, but I can't seem to find the quote again. Just know that _Particles_ is derived from the concept of something extremely tiny, yet still real and definable. Baby, etc. ^_^

The first time Justin saw the tiny white blob on the monitor, he hoped his sperm wasn't defective.

 _Shit_ , he thought, leaning in for a better look at the oblong shape with a squiggle and four limb-like appendages. Truth was, the thing looked more like an alien life form than a human being. He could _maybe_ make out a head, and the appendages were definitely reminiscent of arms and legs, but Jesus, was that a _tail_?

Emily squirmed on the examination table, gently curved belly slick and shiny with lubricating jelly, and eyed the ultrasound monitor warily. "Is it supposed to look like that?" She asked, raising an eyebrow before turning to Justin, who sat on a nearby stool, arms crossed and black Pumas tapping against the tile floor.

The sonographer smiled, moving the wand around until a clearer view of the "baby" in question appeared -- clearer, meaning that yes, the blob-like thing Justin was seeing was positively a head. "Everything looks good to me, so far. They all look a little funny until they're fully developed."

The crinkle between Justin's eyes disappeared. "So we're getting pictures, right?" He asked.

"Of course. You have to have something for the baby book!"

That's when Justin put a hand over his face and tried not to die laughing. Baby book. Yeah, right. Brian would love that about as much as he loved the suggestion of getting off work to sit in on the first ultrasound.

But he was forced to make up for that once Justin arrived at Kinnetik later on, tiny packet of nine ultrasound photos all tucked away in his messenger bag.

Brian hadn't particularly _wanted_ to see the indistinguishable little white thing, but he was compliant, taking the pictures when offered and flipping through them uninterestedly. There were already fingerprints all over the black and white copies from where others had looked at them, and if the flush in Justin's cheeks was enough to go by, the others had been many.

"What do you think?" Justin asked, bending over the front of Brian's desk and peering at the photos himself.

"I think you're the proud parent of an extra terrestrial." Brian dropped the filmy copies onto his desk and turned his attention back to the computer.

"Babies are supposed to look like little aliens until they're more developed. But see, here's the head, and I think _this_ is either a leg or a really huge penis, though I don't think it has repro-" He paused. "Brian."

Brian looked up from his typing. "What?"

"Don't you want to see these?"

"There's nothing to see. It's a...blob."

Justin shrugged. "I know, but c'mon, you're gonna be changing this thing's diapers one day. At least show some interest."

Brian rolled his eyes and typed out a quick email response to Valerie from the art department about how yes, she could certainly miss the entirety of the following week as long as she didn't have a problem returning to no job. "Show me a picture when it actually looks human," he said, sending the message into the realms of cyberspace.

Justin started, then stopped, and when Brian turned to him, eyebrow raised expectantly, he simply shrugged and said, "Whatever. It's not a big deal."

Brian's cell phone beeped, signifying a voice mail, and then the conversation suddenly turned toward Nowheresville and the moment -- if there had been one at all -- disappeared like a puff of smoke.

Justin took the photos, straightened them almost anally into a stack, and tucked them away into the white paper folder. "I'm probably gonna head over to Mom's for a while. She wanted to see..." He shook the picture package before sliding them into the front pocket of his bag. "And Emily said to tell you hello."

" _Christ_."

Justin smiled, gave Brian a quick kiss, and turned to go. "Anyway, I'll see you later."

*****

Jennifer beamed, of course, because how could she not? The white blob with a squiggle, Baby No Name, though currently a disjointed sliver of spine, limbs and head, was already her pride and joy. She took one of the photos, pressed it to her heart, and gave her son the look that all mothers give their children when they provide them with a grandchild.

"It's beautiful, Justin," she breathed, eyes unnecessarily watery as she wrapped her arms around him.

He grinned into the curve of her neck. "Actually, I think it's a little funny looking."

Jennifer ended up pulling out the baby books -- the wrinkly, dusty-paged things that were just waiting for a day such as this to be unpacked -- and traced her fingers over the tiny black ink mark of newborn Justin's footprint. "Do you have one of these?" She asked, closing the book momentarily and tapping the front cover, where "Baby's First Year" was printed in shimmering gold font.

Justin laughed at the idea for the second time within a span of three hours. He tried to imagine himself sprawled out on the couch, gluing in various elements of the baby's life onto crisp, white paper, but ended up rolling his eyes with a sharp shake of the head. "Why don't I leave that up to you?" He decided, taking the book from his mother's grasp and flipping through more pages.

A browning hospital bracelet, a handful of aged cards giving congratulations, a newspaper announcement, a thin wisp of flaxen hair pinned down by a strip of Scotch tape...

"Have you and Brian come up with any names yet?"

Justin shook his head, smoothing out a creased Polaroid of him and his grandmother. "It's weird, you know? Giving something a name it'll have for the rest of its life." He closed the book and dropped it off on the cherry oak coffee table before sinking back into the couch cushions.

Jennifer smiled. "That's part of the fun."

"Try talking about these things with Brian Kinney and you'll see how fun it is."

"How's he doing?"

Justin shrugged, picking at the bottom button on his cardigan. "Fine, I guess. I mean, compared to how he _could_ be acting, he's practically an angel." He snorted, propping the edge of his sneaker up on the table before him. "But I think it's weird, y'know? For both of us, a little."

Jennifer frowned, reaching out a hand to grasp her son's knee. "It's scary."

"More like fucking terrifying."

"But that's all normal." Jennifer took a deep breath, then pursed her lips. "I was so scared with you -- worried that I wouldn't be a good parent -- but when you finally came along, it was the most natural thing in the world." She leaned in and kissed her son's temple. "You'll see."

Justin nodded, turning to his mother and managing a small smile. "Thanks, Grandma."

*****

When Brian jerked open the refrigerator Thursday morning, a magnet came loose and released the photograph it was holding, setting it free to teeter and totter its way to the hardwood floor, where it skimmed to a stop under the counter.

It was far too early, so the man simply grabbed his guava juice, knocked the fridge door closed with his hip, and made his way to the cabinet for a glass.

You might know that Justin had to notice first thing, freezing in place before he even had the chance to dig around for the milk carton. "Where's..." He began, then paused, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth and giving Brian a nervous look.

"It fell. Not my fault."

Justin nodded, closed the refrigerator door, and lowered to his knees where he proceeded to feel around for the ultrasound photo under various surfaces and appliances. Once he found it, stuck under the furthest corner of the counter, he pinned it back to the fridge and licked his lips twice before going back to his morning routine.

The two men ended up eating breakfast in relative silence before clearing their bowls and leaving for work. Brian eyed the baby photo on his way out of the kitchen, and Justin eyed Brian while he gathered his things to go.

*****

It was a long day.

Cynthia had seen the photos, Ted had seen the photos, fucking _Timmy_ with the red nose had seen the photos. He was killing Justin when he got home, it was official.

"What's crawled up _your_ ass?" Cynthia asked, sliding a latte across the smooth surface of Brian's desk and giving him a quizzical look.

His eyebrows were fixed and low, hanging over his eyes in frustration. "Did you get in touch with Leo Brown?" He asked, choosing to ignore his assistant.

After his morning annoyance came his afternoon annoyanc _es_ \-- plural -- which, in no particular order, consisted of Michael Novotny, a Labrador named Walter (who the fuck names a dog _Walter_?!), and a DOS attack on the server hosting kinnetik.org. So not only was it a long day, but Brian also ended up with puppy piss on his office couch, a proposal to jet to San Diego for the Comic Con -- which _was not_ happening, by the way -- and no email for six hours straight.

By the time he made it home sometime around the vicinity of the dinner hour, he was more than ready for drugs and booze with a side of chemically-induced sleep.

But, of course, the fates weren't having that either.

Brian could've guessed that, really. Didn't the saying go something like, "When things are bad, they can only get worse and worse until the bottom just fucking drops out and you end up leaping off a building?" But even _he_ had to admit that he hadn't been expecting this little turn of events.

The turn of events consisting of his sixteen-year-old son camping out in his garage, for one.

Brian had jumped when he saw the kid, lounging so casually on the steps leading to the front door, Adidas duffel bag flopped across his lap in all its blue, oversized glory. And after he'd jumped, he'd exclaimed, "What the _fuck_ , Gus?" while digging around in his pockets for the house key.

The teen stood, dusting off his behind, and sighed heavily. "I couldn't take it anymore."

Brian froze, key in hand and hand reaching toward the doorknob, eyes rolling back in his head. " _Christ_ ," he pushed out between his teeth, head shaking in time with the movement of his wrist as it twisted the key in the lock. "It's _this_ again? Again? Are you _kidding_ me?" He opened the door, and quite honestly felt like throttling his son.

"The lesbians are _killing me_ , Dad." Gus followed his father into the house, lugging his duffel bag lazily behind his long, lean body. His dirty Rainbows scuffed the floors where the bag didn't.

Brian shot his kid a sidelong glance and moved to the living room to drop off his briefcase. "Those _lesbians_ are your mothers."

"Which is exactly the problem. They took my keys. I'm grounded from the roads for _a month_."

"Because they caught you fucking that girl?"

"Because my biology teacher caught me with my hand up _that girl_ 's skirt. I'm suspended for two days."

Brian cringed, because really, he hadn’t particularly _needed_ that image. His son's fingers were now touching the couch fabric, and _God_ , he hoped he'd washed them. "Well, what do you want me to do?" He asked, loosening his tie until the ends hung freely around his neck.

Gus gave his father a look, screwed up his lips, and rubbed at the anxious crease in his forehead with an open palm. He replied, "I want you to get my keys back. I refuse to be cooped up in the house for the next month, and more than that, I _am not_ being picked up and dropped off at school by _my mother_."

"And why would I get your keys back for you?"

"Maybe because I've been unjustly sentenced?" The kid swallowed, arms crossing over his chest, and followed his moving father into the kitchen. "Maybe because you, of all people, should know that when the moment is there, you just _have_ to fuck. It's a totally natural and beautiful thing that-"

" _Gus_ ," Brian interrupted, grabbing a glass from the cabinet and pouring himself not a little but _a lot_ of alcohol. "I'd much rather be getting drunk off my ass right now, so I'm only gonna say this once. First, you're going to listen to your mothers because you _should not_ have been so stupid as to finger your little girlfriend somewhere you could've been caught.”

"But-"

" _Second_ , you better be using protection when you're getting these _moments_ , because the last thing I need right now is a kid with a kid or a kid with a venereal disease. And _third_ , while I'm contemplating how the hell you could possibly think I'd ever find hetero sex _beautiful_ , you're going to call Lindsay and explain to her exactly where you are and why you're here."

" _Dad_."

"Do you need to turn up your hearing aid?"

Gus dropped his bag somewhere near the kitchen counter and raked dirty fingers across his face. Yes, dirty. Brian was banking on those fingers still smelling like- Oh, fuck, it was too disgusting to think about.

"How the hell did you get here, anyway?" Brian asked, swallowing so much wine he almost choked. He looked his son up and down, questioning why the kid couldn't just fucking straighten up and buckle down and fuck, he sounded like a father. A real one. With gray hair, a potbelly, and a Budweiser baseball cap.

He was killing himself before his next birthday.

Gus palmed his head and sighed. "Addison dropped me off on his way to church."

"What such good, Christian friends you have."

"My girlfriend's a good little Catholic girl."

Brian rolled his eyes, because he knew how that went. He knew that by "good little Catholic girl," Gus meant she was constantly on her knees and yelled out "God" while being fucked.

Justin showed up about then, shoving his way through the front door with a messenger bag strapped across his chest and a giant cherry slushee in one hand. His tongue was red and tasted like fruit when he slipped a little to Brian on his way past.

" _Mmm_ , Gus!" He said, slightly shocked, withdrawing his tongue from his partner's mouth when he noticed the lanky teenager leaned back against the counter, face pink with stress. Brian pulled Justin forward once more and kissed him nice and wetly for good measure.

"Justin," Gus greeted, giving the man a little wave and walking over to jerk open the refrigerator door.

"Phone, Gus. I'm warning you." Brian pulled his Blackberry from his pocket and slid it across the counter toward his son…

…who promptly ignored it.

"I'm going to get something to eat first," he said, examining the contents of the fridge before pulling out a carton of milk and leftover lasagna from Deb's latest family dinner. "Then I'm going to use your bathroom, and _then_ I'll call."

"Except _not_. I'll order take-out while you have a little chat with your mommy."

"Hey, is this your kid?" Gus asked the very confused Justin, who had is arms crossed over his chest because he really didn't know what else to do. The teen closed the fridge door and pointed to the ultrasound photo pinned up with a silver magnet. "It's a boy, right? That's his di-"

"It's too soon to tell," Justin butted in, frankly a little overwhelmed with what he'd come home to. It hadn't exactly been a breezy afternoon for him, either, especially since a pipe had burst at the gallery and the floor had quickly filled with three inches of water -- which he'd had to wade through in order to save his paintings. Wonderful day.

"It's cute, though. That's the head, right?"

" _Gus_." Brian looked at his son with such a dangerous expression painted on his face that the kid stepped away from the fridge, slowly turned around, and fell into protective stance. "I'm not even fucking kidding. You can't just _run away_ from Mel and Linds whenever you're in trouble, thinking I'm going to get you out of it."

"But a lot of the time, you _do_."

"Christ. Go upstairs or something."

Gus rolled his eyes and popped open the Tupperware container of cold, slimy lasagna.

Brian was pissed. He moved over to his son, shoved the lid back onto the food, and threw it back into the fridge. "Justin, order take-out. Gus and I are going to have a little talk."

"Mm," Justin hummed to himself, grabbing Brian's Blackberry and walking off with it into the living room.

After he called in an order for Chinese, Justin returned to the kitchen to find Gus near tears and Brian rubbing at his temples in an impending headache.

“You’re supposed to be the _cool_ parent!” Gus yelled, before kicking the corner of the island counter in frustration.

“Kick my furniture again,” Brian dared him, calmly taking his phone from Justin and punching in speed dial number three for Lindsay. “You’re not too old to be sent to your room.”

“I’m old enough to call Addison to come get me.”

“And I’m old enough to tell your little friend that he might as well take his ass back to church.” Brian tapped the side of the Blackberry twice, sighed, and disconnected the call.

By the time the take-out arrived by way of a cute little Asian man in a Honda, Gus had already stunk up the hall bathroom, eaten half a bunch of grapes, and sent his father upstairs with the bottle of whiskey.

“Do _you_ think I should have had my keys taken away?” He asked Justin, helping unpack the bag of food with hands just itching to pop open the cartons and dig in.

“I think you should probably listen to your parents.”

“But do you think I should have my keys taken away?”

Justin huffed a laugh, tugging a fistful of plastic-wrapped chopsticks from the bottom of the delivery bag, and gave Gus a look. “Did you _seriously_ finger your girlfriend in biology class?”

The teen nodded, shoving one of his tainted fingers into the carton of General Tso’s Chicken and swiping some of the spicy sauce. “But look, she was wearing a skirt and the lab tables come up high. I didn’t even stick my fingers _up_ her, just-”

“Ugh.” Justin feigned a gag. “ _Gus_.”

“You’re not exactly a prude, yourself. I’ve heard stories, you know…”

The man laughed, grabbing Gus’s hand and gently pulling it away from the carton of chicken. He kissed his cheek. “You’re playing safe, aren’t you?”

“Oh my God. You’re just like my _dad_.” Gus licked the orange, dripping sauce from his finger before unwrapping a pair of chopsticks and breaking them apart. “I’m still traumatized from being shown how to put on a condom, you know.”

Justin smiled and ruffled the kid’s hair. “We love you.”

“But love does not equal bringing out a fucking _ten-inch_ dildo and a box of Trojans. A banana, _maybe_ , but not a dildo.” Gus stabbed a piece of chicken with a chopstick and shoved it into his mouth. “Traumatized. You traumatized me, Dad!” The kid said loudly as Brian entered the kitchen, clothes changed and hair disheveled from a shirt being pulled over his head.

Brian rolled his eyes. “What now?”

“It seems our condom demonstration was a little over the top,” Justin stage-whispered, eyes shining with laughter.

Gus sighed. “The first time I did it with Lainey, all I could think of were huge, blue dildos.”

Brian slipped up behind his son and wrapped his arms around his waist, pulling the kid in for a backward hug. “Aw, we gave little Sonny Boy a complex.”

Gus shrugged away from the embrace and rolled his eyes. “Just so you know, Dad, I’m pretty fucking hung.”

“How hung?”

“Your horse? Yeah, he’d be jealous.”

Brian rolled his eyes and moved over to the cabinet to grab plates.

After dinner, Gus was sent to his room to do whatever teenage boys do all alone in their bedrooms -– jerk off, fart, watch porn, all of the above -– and Brian gave Lindsay a call. She’d been crying, of course, and Mel was pissed at Brian for waiting so goddamned fucking long to call them and for not answering his cell earlier and for, y’know, _breathing_. Brian told them both to get a grip, that Gus was alive and had an extremely healthy intestinal tract, and that yes, he was being punished and no, there were no _‘atta boys_ being uttered.

“Are you at least gonna go talk to him?” Justin asked once Brian had hung up. The two of them were lounging on the couch, watching TV and eating Chex Mix.

“I’m letting him grovel,” he said, stealing a pretzel. “He’s already gotten his fucking keys taken away.”

“Not about _that_ ,” Justin murmured, kicking Brian’s bare knee with a cold foot. “About fucking. I think he could use an abbreviated repeat of our award winning sex talk.”

“You mean the sex talk in which you sat on the bed and nodded while I told him that if he knocked up a chick before graduation he was on his own?”

“I mean the sex talk in which _we_ offered to take him condom shopping and explained about always being careful and that the pull-out method doesn’t work, and that if he ever thinks he has an STD to tell us immediately and we’ll-”

Brian rolled his eyes and flipped through the television channels, not paying much attention to what he was passing. “My kid’s not stupid.”

“Well neither were _we_ , but there’ve been broken condoms and…accidents. Shit happens.”

“You go talk to him. I’ve had a shitty fucking day and my head hurts.”

Justin sighed, toppled over into Brian’s lap, and rubbed his face against the other man’s crotch. “Oh, you’re such a whiner,” he said into the fabric, laughing when he felt hands stroke through his hair and gently press downward. He pulled back, straightened, and grinned. “But I’ll talk to him if you’re gonna be that way.”

“Practice, practice,” Brian sing-songed, yawning into his hand while leaning back against the couch cushions.

“What? For my own sexually promiscuous child?”

“For that thing on the refrigerator that’ll one day grow genitalia. Yeah.”

Justin laughed, gave Brian a lingering kiss that said a lot more than words ever could, and made his way upstairs to face the Teenager.

*****

"So, gay sex," Gus murmured, shoving no less than four Cheetos in his mouth and chewing around his words. His fingers were orange, his cheeks were orange, and his lips looked blood red with juice stains and cheese puff dust.

Justin cringed. "Gay sex?"

"Yeah. Gay sex."

Justin had no idea how it'd happened -- how he'd slipped upstairs to have an awkward little chat with Brian's kid about the importance of suiting up for the deed and ended up discussing _his_ sex life. Which he'd never wanted to do with Gus. Ever. And yet it somehow happened. One moment Justin was offering to get him some spermicidal foam just in case, and the next Gus was saying the words "gay sex" and staring at the man with that laughter look in his eyes Brian got when he was seriously stoned.

"What's it like? I mean, not with my dad, 'cause _eew_ , but y'know, in general."

Justin stole a handful of Gus's Cheetos and began chewing them down one by one. He pulled his legs up onto the bed, criss-crossed them, wiped his cheesy fingers across his sweats until the knees were stained and speckled, and tried to think of something to say that wasn't remotely disturbing.

"Better than hetero sex," he settled on, rubbing his fingers together until the excess cheese-flavored crap crumbled and dropped into his lap.

"You've fucked a _woman_?" Gus asked, shocked, then stuffed his mouth with more Cheetos. "Like, for real? And God, if it was my mom, please lie and tell me it wasn't."

"Why would I fuck your mom?"

"Well, _Dad_ has. Figured you'd probably jumped on the bandwagon at some point."

Justin laughed through his nose. "My best friend wanted me to be her first. We were like, seventeen. Ancient history."

"How'd you do it?"

"Do what?"

" _Do_ it. I mean, you're gay and all... My dad messed around in college, I get that, but you're like, the ultimate queer."

Justin closed his eyes for a moment, trying to process that bit of information. "Did you just call me the ultimate queer?"

Gus elbowed him with a laugh, then went back to his Cheetos. "You heard me."

"You're so fucking weird."

"How did you _do it_? Answer my question. Did you have to like, close your eyes and think of cock or something?"

"It's not like that, Gus," Justin murmured, cheeks on fire, palms sweaty. He pushed his sleeves up to his elbows and leaned back against the wall. "It's not like it's impossible for gay people to get aroused during hetero sex. It feels good to stick your dick up someone, period."

"So _I_ can get hard from watching two guys fuck, and it doesn't mean I'm gay?"

"What are you _asking_?"

"I have questions, here."

"I see that." Justin laughed, albeit nervously. "And _no_ , it doesn't." He eyed the teen inquisitively.

Gus raised an eyebrow in defense. "What?"

"Nothing."

"It's not like I've been watching gay porn or anything. God. Just a question."

"Okay."

"You don't believe me."

"I believe you."

"Oh my God, you _don't_. You think I'm gay."

Justin climbed off the bed, shoulders shaking with laughter. "Please. My ultimately queer dick withers at the _thought_ of fingering a girl."

"So you think I'm bi."

"I don't think anything."

"Well, I'm not." Gus shrugged, rolling up the half-empty Cheeto bag and dropping it onto the floor beside the bed. "And I _do_ want some spermicidal foam. We can't have the _girls_ I'm fucking getting pregnant, can we?"

"I'll get you some. Or, hey, you can come with me to the store tomorrow."

"No thanks. I'd rather not be seen buying sex supplies with a dude."

Justin laughed. "Because you're straight, right?"

"As an arrow."

*****

Daphne came over at nine the next morning, lugging Frankie and Zee behind her like two rolling suitcases. Justin was at the dining room table, working on his third cup of coffee and typing out an email to Ted about number crunching and water damage, new carpeting, and _Christ_ , he didn't want to think about it. Financially, he was fine. Mentally, he needed a straitjacket.

At the sound of boot heels and a pair of pink Dr. Martens against the hardwood floors, Justin looked up, rubbed at his crusty eyes, and murmured a gravely, "What the fuck are you doing here?"

"Good morning to you, too," Daphne said, way too cheerily, as she leaned down and pecked his cheek. "The door was unlocked."

"Clearly."

Frankie stood in the center of the dining room, staring at Justin with her huge gray eyes filled with childlike curiosity. She was a gorgeous little girl, all caramel skin and wavy dark hair just like her mother, but with shockingly light eyes.

"Justin," she said, as if she knew something he didn't, wiggling her finger at him in greeting. Her nails were painted yellow.

"Frankfurter!" Justin teased, waving her over and pulling her into his lap. Frankie stretched up and kissed the man's stubbly chin, laughing when her lips were poked by the short blond hairs.

Daphne dumped Zee's baby seat onto the table and leaned down to sniff into his lap. "Jesus _fuck_ ," she said under her breath, motioning for Justin to watch him while she went out to the car for his diaper bag.

"Zee just... He just pooped in his diaper," Frankie noted, reaching out to stroke her brother's fair cheek. "That's because he's a baby. I'm a big girl 'cause I poop in the potty."

"You sure are," Justin said, pulling the baby seat closer. He grabbed a red pacifier from where it rested in the pocket of Zee's overalls, and wiggled it in front of the baby's face. Zee parted his lips and twisted his tongue around, accepting the pacifier gladly and sucking so hard that it bounced in and out of his mouth. His thin layer of dark hair stuck up off his head like baby bird feathers, and Justin reached to smooth it down.

"You're changing him," Daphne declared once she returned, dropping the blue and brown polka dotted bag on the other end of the table and moving to unfasten her son. "For practice. And then we're going shopping."

Justin cringed. "For practice? Are you _sure_ that's why you're making me change him?"

"Of course. Why else wouldn't I want to change a diaper that smells like something from the pits of hell?"

"Can't imagine."

Once Zee was changed and redressed -- which was the hardest part, frankly -- Justin ran upstairs to grab a shower while Daphne and the kids watched _Yo Gabba Gabba!_ in the living room.

He washed up, shaved, brushed his teeth, and made a mental note to buy more toothpaste because they were running low. _Toothpaste, toothpaste, toothpaste. Straitjacket, straitjacket, straitjacket._

*****

It was a slow, aching morning -- one of those where you just want to go back to bed as soon as you walk out the door and realize how fucking cold it is. Dismally, depressingly cold, like a setting in a Jack London story.

The fact that Gus was wearing flip-flops in the freezing weather was lost on Brian, but he decided to just ignore it, because he'd already realized years before that teenagers were fucking weird. Let the kid's toes freeze off while his perfectly good, three-hundred dollar designer boots laugh at him from inside the house. Not Brian's problem.

They listened to _Coney Island Baby_ on the way to Lindsay's, because Gus was into that kind of thing and Brian was happy to oblige. Jesus, at least his son had good taste in music, even if that was the only good taste he had.

"Dad," Gus said once they arrived, motioning for Brian to cease all movement. "I'd appreciate it if you didn't mention how exactly I arrived at your house last night." He bit his bottom lip with teeth currently encased in a clear, plastic retainer, and blinked his eyes like the poorest fucking child on Earth.

"Sorry to break it to you, Sonny Boy, but they're well aware you sneaked out."

"Yeah, but they're _not_ aware that Addison drove me. I'm not supposed to see him. Like, ever."

Brian rolled his eyes in premature defeat and slowly leaned over to rest his forehead against the hand-warmed steering wheel. He felt the hardness press against his skull and wondered if it'd squish right through if applied enough pressure. "Tell me fast, before the munchers know we're here."

Gus stared at his father's form for a second, chewed on the inside of his cheeks, and shrugged. "Not worth telling." He reached for the door latch. "Just don't tell Mom or Mel, okay?"

"Mom or _who_?" Brian reached for him, grabbed the hood of his ugly-as-all-hell sweatshirt, and pulled him back into the seat. "When the fuck did this start? And don't think you're not telling me about your buddy."

" _God_ , Dad, it just slipped out. Mom or _Mamma_. That's what I meant." He ran his hands through his disheveled brown hair and reached, once more, to open the car door.

Brian pulled him back. "Melanie is as much your mother as Lindsay, so don't even start that shit."

"You hate Melanie."

" _Watch it_. She's a cunt, but she's still your fucking mother."

"Did I say she _wasn't_? Mamma, mamma, mamma. Okay? Bye."

Brian power-locked the doors and disabled passenger controls.

" _Fuck you_ , Dad!" Gus yelled, pulling the door latch over and over again. "Just leave it alone."

"And you still haven't told me about your little Christian friend." Brian checked his watch. 9:24 AM. Fifteen to spare. "Start talking."

"It's nothing."

"Then I'm _sure_ Lindsay wouldn't mind knowing you were joyriding with him last night..."

" _Don't_ tell her."

"Talk."

"It's no big deal, all right? Fucking stupid shit Mom flipped out over."

Brian rubbed his hands together. "Well, I can't wait to hear it."

"Just let me go." Gus leaned over his father's lap and made a move for the controls, but was blocked within seconds. "Goddamn you. It's fucking _lame_ , okay?"

"Five seconds."

Gus took a deep breath, inhaling the smell of stale cigarettes mixed with car wax, and flopped back over into his seat. He slipped the tip of his thumb into his mouth in an entirely Justin move and bit at the skin.

"Four."

"Okay, okay." The teen sighed, belatedly, and rubbed at his face with the palm of his hand. "He got me like, really messed up a few weeks ago."

Really messed up? Really. Messed. Up? Brian sucked in his breath -- not because he was shocked, not because he hadn't expected it eventually, but _goddamn_. His son was fucking stupid. Why, how in the _hell_ , was his son so fucking stupid? Except he _wasn't_ fucking stupid, Brian _knew_ he wasn't fucking stupid, but that didn't stop the weird little...twitchy thing that happened in Brian's throat. "How messed up?"

Gus shrugged. "I don't know. Mostly with pills and shit. Painkillers. Stuff he stole from his mom."

"Sonny Boy."

"I know, okay? Already heard the lecture."

"So what happened?"

" _Nothing_. That's why it's stupid. Addison's dad came home, found us all high and stuff, and called Mom and _Mamma_. I slept for about a year, woke up feeling like shit, and got over it. The end."

Brian just stared at his son. Stared at his _sixteen_ -year-old, stared at himself at that age. He grabbed the sleeve of Gus's ratty brown sweatshirt and sighed. Fucking _shook_ on the inside.

"Aren't you gonna say something?"

Brian looked at Gus for a long moment, felt words on the tip of his tongue, but swallowed them in a hurry and shook his head "no."

"Good. Now let me out."

*****

"What the fuck, Linds?" Brian yelled through a whisper, leaning back against the door frame and crossing his arms over his chest.

"We thought it'd be counterproductive to tell you. I mean, you're not exactly the poster child for anti-drugs."

Oh, Brian was pissed. He glanced over his shoulder to make sure Gus wasn't listening from the stairwell and rubbed at the stubble on his chin. "He could've overdosed."

"But he _didn't_ , thank goodness." Lindsay reached out to place a hand on Brian's shoulder, but winced when he shrugged it away in defiance. "We took care of it."

"He's my kid."

"No one's denying that."

"You're supposed to _tell me_ when he does stupid shit."

"We were _going to_ , Brian," Lindsay breathed, running her fingers through her hair. "But Mel and I talked it over and decided that maybe it would be best not to. It was a one-time thing, Gus isn't allowed to see that boy anymore..."

Brian laughed unsmilingly. "Okay."

"And we just wanted it to be over and done."

"So, what? You think I'd _encourage_ him or something? Tell him 'good job?' 'Better luck not getting caught next time?'" He shook his head, kicking at a stray leaf on the front porch. It stuck, sludgy and wet, to the toe of his shoe.

" _No_."

"I bet it was fucking Melanie, right?" He snorted. "Figures."

"Brian, will you stop being so stubborn? Our decision had nothing to do with _you_."

"Exactly."

Lindsay sighed. "I didn't mean it that way."

"Yeah, whatever." Brian checked his watch, cursed because he was late, and slipped on his sunglasses even though the sun was currently being beaten by the clouds into a low, barely visible glimmer. "Later."

*****

He had a _bitch_ of a headache by the time he reached Kinnetik, ten minutes later than he'd intended and fifteen minutes before his meeting with Quinton.

"Messages for you," Cynthia announced, dropping a stack of pink memo notes on his desk. "And Whitley called, wanting to schedule another meeting for next Friday. I told him I'd check with you and get back to him."

"Check with me later."

"Justin has a dental cleaning Monday at nine."

"Why the fuck do I care? Tell _him_."

"And yours is at two."

"Can't. Cancel it."

Cynthia rolled her eyes. "You _do_ know that I'm not your wife, right? Give the fucking dentist office your home number."

Brian smiled sweetly. "Oh, but then I'd have to call and cancel my _own_ appointments."

"You better be glad I'm _not_ your wife, because I'd kick your ass."

He told her to get the fuck out of his office and gathered his shit for the meeting. This was not going to be pretty.

*****

Justin hated the mall. The stores sucked, and it was filled with nothing but old, blue-haired ladies power walking in packs and spoiled three-year-olds screaming their heads off. Spoiled three-year-olds like Frankie Hyatt, who was currently on the verge of vomiting through her tears because Zee got to ride in a stroller and she didn't.

"Zee's a baby," Daphne told her, brushing away the hair sticking to the tears on her cheeks and giving her a kiss. "Only babies ride in strollers."

"I'm a baby!" Frankie screamed, pulling on the bottom of her ladybug shirt until it was stretched out and loose. Her cheeks were red and eyelashes were fat and black with wetness.

"I thought you told me you were a big girl?" Justin asked her, trying to help some, even though he felt like finding himself a random guillotine and shoving his neck under the blade.

"I'm a baby. I'm a _baby_!"

He ended up popping a few extra strength headache pills by the water fountain -- keeping Zee in the stroller by his side -- while Daphne entertained Frankie in the Disney store. No, not entertained. Bribed. Yeah, she'd turned into one of _those_ parents.

"Just you and me, buddy," Justin murmured, crouching down to talk to the tiny little boy, who was sucking away on his pacifier. Zee's eyes were sleepy, dark and half-lidded under the shadow of his black eyelashes, and Justin had to smile a little, thinking about what his own baby might look like.

Justin pressed a kiss to his index finger and touched Zee's nose. He was a very cute baby, like one of those life-like dolls Molly had as a kid.

"I'm glad you're enjoying my son," Daphne said when she returned, carrying a bundle of three-year-old and a shopping bag with an Eeyore head sticking out the top. She looked exhausted, hair fallen into a loose, curly poof of what used to be a ponytail, and her makeup was smudged into raccoon eyes. "Feel free to keep him till he's potty trained."

"That's okay," Justin laughed, stroking Zee's soft head as the baby closed his eyes once more, finally succumbing to sleep. "I have a feeling I'll have my hands full enough soon."

"It's hard," Daph whispered, motioning toward Frankie, who was currently attempting to pull what appeared to be a Tinker Bell wand out of the bag. "But worth it."

“I know,” Justin said, standing up straight and moving around to grasp at the handle on the stoller. He rolled his eyes when Daphne scrunched her nose at him, trying to be cute, and outstretched a leg to gently kick at her shin.

They went to Baby Gap because Frankie apparently needed khaki overalls to go with her pink turtleneck, and Justin deliberately didn’t buy anything.

“You know, it wouldn’t hurt to start _looking_ ,” Daphne said through a tight-lipped expression, motioning toward a rack full of bunny bath towels.

“I may vomit.”

“Stop trying to be all macho. They’re fucking adorable.” She picked up one of the…things, all white and terrycloth with bunny ears and a plush cottontail. “So cute. I’m getting Zee one.”

“You’re going to dress your son like a rabbit? Poor kid.”

“He has a puppy one already, so I probably shouldn’t get it, but-” She squeaked, like she’d spotted a mouse, and tossed the atrocity into her shopping cart. “Can’t help it. Want it.”

“My kid will never wear a rabbit bath towel.”

“Do you know how much fun you’re _not_? And it’s a _bunny_ bath towel.”

“Still. Not wearing it.”

“A duck? Bear? Dinosaur? Look, they have cats! _God_ , Zee, I hope you turn out gay.”

“Mommy, what’s gay?” Frankie poked her head out from inside a rack of onesies.

“Justin.”

“Wait, _what_?” Justin crossed his arms over his chest, fighting a laugh. “Since when am I the gay darling of America? Gus told me last night that I was the ultimate queer.”

“Oh, lighten up.” Daphne kissed his cheek, then turned to Frankie. “Gays are the coolest.”

Daphne's purchases ended up costing ninety-four dollars -- _ninety-four dollars_ for two toddler outfits and a fucking rabbit...thing -- and when everyone finally piled out of the store, Daphne proceeded to pull the atrocity out of the bag and handed it to Justin. "For the baby," she said, taking off with Frankie and Zee toward the food court.

There were times when Justin could just kill her.

"I'm not taking this," he said, attempting to drop it back into the shopping bag twisted around Daphne's wrist.

"Yes, you are. It's too small for Zee, anyway."

"You're so weird."

"You so love me."

Justin ended up rolling the towel until it was the size of an empty toilet paper roll and stuffed it into his pants pocket.

*****

"What the fuck is _that_?" Brian asked later, palming the bulge in Justin's pants with a devious grin. "Why Justin, I knew you were happy to see me, but-"

"Wait till you see it. Seriously, you're going to puke."

"Oh, Christ. Is this a Daphne thing?"

"It's a Daphne thing." Justin pulled the bath towel from his pocket and shook it out, the long, white ears flopping wildly.

"Wow."

"Exactly."

Brian laughed through his nose, pulling Justin against his chest and planting a warm, wet kiss on his lips. "I think it's _cuuuuute_."

Justin rolled his eyes. "It's adorable."

"The sweetest fucking thing I've ever seen."

"Gives me a toothache."

Brian grasped the sides of Justin's face and leaned down for another kiss, capturing pink lips in his own. Justin tasted like truffles and cigarettes, warmth in cold weather, and Brian had to sigh into his mouth, press his nose against Justin's, and melt.

*****

"So, do we keep it?" Justin asked later, stretching out on the floor rug and reaching over to grab the towel off the side of the couch.

Brian was there, using Kleenexes to wipe his cum from the insides of Justin's thighs, and he looked up, examining the article of clothing with twisted lips. "I'm honestly afraid of what Daphne would do if you _didn't_ keep it. Crazy bitch."

Justin slapped his arm with a breathy laugh, then turned back to the towel. "It _is_ cute."

"If I had ovaries, they'd explode."

"God, you're like a fucking kid, you know that? Be serious."

Brian flopped backward, stretching out in front of the fireplace, heat dusting across his shoulders and bathing him in comfortable warmth. "It's a towel. With a hood. And rabbit ears."

"You're so much help."

"You know I _looooove_ helping." Brian rolled to the side and began kissing down Justin's chest, pausing to lick and suck at his nipples on his way to the final destination.

" _Mmm_ ," Justin hummed, carding his fingers through Brian's hair with one hand and using the other to toss the towel back onto the couch. "I think I'll keep it."

"Good."

"This is...weird, y'know?"

"I know."

"But good weird, right?"

"Right."


	2. Nineteen Weeks

"Wow, Deb, that's  _a lot_  of food," Justin murmured, raising an eyebrow at the ridiculous amount of French fries and onion rings piled on top of his burger -- his  _diet_  burger -- which consisted of basically nothing delicious except for the patty. Grease pooled around it, soaking into the bun and sealing it with a heart attack.

"Anything for you, honey. You're eating for two!"

" _I'm_  not the pregnant one,” he reminded, pointing across the table at Emily, who covered her mouth in order to stifle a laugh. “That's  _her_. But if I eat all this, that may be arguable."

"Oh, shut up and eat the goddamn food. You were too fuckin' skinny before, anyway." Debbie pushed Justin's plate closer to the edge of the table and leaned down to kiss his forehead, leaving behind a stark red kiss-mark. She turned to Emily: "You're taking care of Little Sunshine, aren't you?"

"Of course," the woman answered, rubbing across her cherry lips with a napkin. "Either that or pissing it off. It's been kicking the hell out of me."

"Ah, a little drama queen already." Debbie ruffled Justin's hair and leaned over to refill Emily's water. "Let me know if you need anything. I can whip up a casserole in no time. Gotta fatten up the little guy or gal."

"Thanks, Deb," Emily said with a genuine smile. "It's nice to finally meet you."

Justin wanted to scoff how fucking  _nice_  she was, but shoveled in a few French fries instead, even though he could feel his fat cells fucking, getting ready to have lovely little blubbery babies.

"And it's about fuckin' time I've met  _you_. Jesus, the way my boys fill me in, it's like they don't even know me." Debbie eyed Justin warily, placing a free hand on her hip. "But what do I care? I'm just the woman who feeds 'em, looks after 'em, launders their sticky sheets..."

" _Deb_."

"Don't think I didn't notice it when you were living with me, Sunshine. Those spots don't go away when they dry." With a faint laugh and a pinch to Justin's cheek, the woman walked off, moving to another table with a pitcher of water and a leopard-print notepad.

"Oh God."

Emily was laughing fully, propping her head up on her elbows and chortling into her open palms. Her long, dark hair fell into her face and curtained her off into a shaking Cousin It.

"Please," Justin begged, feeling his hot cheeks with the backs of his hands. "Pretend that never happened."

"Debbie's amazing," Emily whispered, bending her straw forward and taking a sip of water.

"She is. At times."

"And I think it's cool, y'know? How she's not even related to you and yet still loves you like that."

Justin shrugged, reluctantly plucking handfuls of fries and onion rings from his plate and placing them on a napkin. "Blood doesn't mean anything to Deb, and not to her lost boys, either."

*****

After lunch, Gus ran into Emily and Justin on his way into the Diner, carrying a plastic GameStop bag full of PlayStation games and wearing a pair of neon green Wayfarers. "So, I need a ride," he said, tucking a credit card that looked very similar to Brian's into his wallet. "To Lainey's. It's our six-month anniversary."

Justin bit at his bottom lip and shrugged. "Can't. We have an appointment in like, twenty minutes for an ultrasound."

"Shit, yeah! Forgot!" Gus, with no sense of personal space whatsoever, placed his hand on Emily's swollen belly and grinned. "You're the surrogate, right?"

"No, she's some random stranger," Justin deadpanned, kicking at Gus's dirty sneakers with his own. "You better run. She'll file for harassment."

Emily laughed, patting the boyishly dirty hand pressed against her stomach. "I'm Emily McKay," she said, nodding toward Gus, who gaped at her embarrassingly. Drool threatened to fall, and really, it was rather disgusting.

"I'm...I'm..." He started, looking down at their touching hands and then back up at Emily's smooth, pleasant face. Her green eyes met his and he was lost, totally and completely. "I'm, uh..." Fuck.

"You're Gus Peterson-Marcus," Justin said, clutching the teen's shoulder a little tighter than he normally would and shooting a nervous smile his way. "This is Brian's son."

" _Oh_! Yeah, yeah," Emily exclaimed, pulling her hand away from Gus's and reaching up to tap at the frames on his glasses. "I should've known that. Spitting image."

"I'm older than I look."

"Well, so am I."

"How old are you?"

Emily snorted, biting at her bottom lip. "Thirty-three."

" _Gus_ ," Justin warned, latching onto his arm and trying to shake him out of it. "Emily and I have an appointment." He paused for effect. "In twenty minutes."

Gus jumped, pushing his glasses up till they were perched on his head, and crossed his arms over his chest, keeping one eye on Emily and the other on Justin. "You're finding out if it's a girl or boy today. Can I come?"

"I thought it was you and Lainey's anniversary?"

"Who's Lainey?"

Oh God. Gus  _was not_  crushing on the mother of Justin's child. The man rolled his eyes. "Your  _girlfriend_. Six months?"

He shrugged, chewing furiously at a piece of cinnamon gum. "Yeah... She'd probably be pissed. Her parents are in Cabo so we're supposed to be having a naked party, and- "

"Gus."

"What?"

Justin cringed. "Don't wanna know."

"Yeah. The gay thing."

"More like the thing about how you're basically my stepson."

"Whatever." He looked toward Emily, studied her prominent collarbone and sighed longingly before turning back to Justin. "So is Dad meeting you guys there? I really need a fucking ride."

"Where's your car?"

"Don't ask."

"You can take the bus..."

"She lives out of the city."

"Cab?"

"Like, fifty bucks."

Justin groaned, rubbing at the gentle crease forming between his eyebrows. Gus was very possibly the most inconvenient little guy on the face of the planet.

But he was also standing there all worried about not getting to his girlfriend's house, and God, causing Brian Kinney's son to acquire blue balls was like giving Viagra to a rabbit. Justin placed a hand on the back of the kid's neck and steered him down the sidewalk toward his car.

They waved goodbye to Emily, Justin telling her he'd see her at the doctor's office, and climbed in the black Mercedes Sport Sedan parked unevenly on the curb.

"So she's fucking hot!" Gus declared the moment the key was in the ignition. "Like,  _really_  hot. Really."

"Gus,  _eew_."

" _What_? She is! God, you picked a good one."

*****

When they arrived at Kinnetik, Brian counted out five twenties and tucked them into the front pocket of Gus's shirt. "Fifty for cab fare and fifty for _not_  getting a girl pregnant tonight, please." He wrapped an arm around his son's shoulders and pulled him in for a hug, kissing his temple once Gus was close enough. "And get rid of those glasses."

"These glasses are ace."

"My son is a hipster."

"Your son is kick-fucking-ass."

Brian rolled his eyes. "Go screw your girlfriend."

"Aye-aye."

" _Safely_."

"Mmm, was just planning on fucking her raw tonight." Gus kissed Brian's cheek, dropped his glasses down off his head, and made a quick dash to the door, his sneakers squeaking like a nest of mice.

"You better be joking!" Brian called after him, grabbing a bottle of water and taking a sip. Christ, his fucking son. His crazy fucking son.

Justin moved over and wrapped his arms around Brian's waist, burying his head in the other man's chest. He inhaled, smelling faint cologne and cigarettes, and smiled. "And how was your day?"

Brian leaned down and kissed Justin's smooth forehead, right beside the smudge of pink from Debbie's lipstick. "For shit, of course. Visit the Diner?"

Justin nodded. "Just had lunch with Emily. She's meeting us at the doctor's in like, four minutes."

"Do I have to go?"

"No."

"Really?"

"No." Justin smiled up at Brian, scrunching his nose playfully. "It'll be fun -- or at least not an excruciatingly painful experience. Word has it that Little Sunshine has reproductive organs now."

"It's about time." Brian snorted. "And 'Little Sunshine?' Definitely visited Deb."

"She called me fat."

"Because you're a total obese cow, right?"

"Must be." Justin shrugged, stretching up on his tiptoes to quickly kiss Brian's lips once, then twice. "But anyway, she apparently likes me better this way. Either that, or she's set on killing me with fried food."

"So you weigh eighty pounds now? Ninety?"

"I'm getting soft. You know I am."

"As long as one thing stays hard..."

Justin laughed, working his hand around Brian's hip to his ass. "I'll be back to my pre-baby weight in no time."

" _Mmmm_ ," Brian hummed, dipping his head to kiss Justin's neck, hands roaming all across the other man's jeans, inside his back pockets and squeezing at his ass. He sucked on the warm, pale skin, gently tugging at it with his teeth. Justin tasted like cleanliness, freshness, and yet musky, manly sweat from an entire morning of painting in a hot room above the gallery.

Justin closed his eyes, running his fingers in the faint dip of Brian's pants where his crack was, and groaned, partly out of arousal, partly out of frustration. "We've gotta go."

Brian kissed him, sliding his tongue along the surface of Justin's lips and teeth. "But we're having so much fun..."

"Later."

It was a whisper.

*****

"So what the hell am I looking at?" Brian asked, squinting his eyes at the ultrasound monitor.

Sure, he'd sat in on one of these before, but that was close to seventeen years prior. Seventeen fucking years. And anyway, you basically needed a decoder lens to tell what anything was because it all looked like swirls of varying shades of black and gray with a mass of white smack dab in the center.

The sonographer fidgeted with the monitor controls, pausing to take a few pictures. She was a heavyset woman, slightly bitchier than the last, with hair that hadn't been dyed in a while and a prominent gap in her front teeth. "Mr. Kinney," she said sternly, raising a thick, wart-speckled eyebrow. "This is the baby's profile."

Brian huffed and peered closer. He could kind of make it out, but was still pretty sure Justin was seeing something he wasn't, for the other man was grinning wildly and kept looking at Brian to gauge his reaction. Every few seconds, Justin would turn his head ever so slightly -- not enough to be so obvious, but enough to annoy the hell out of Brian -- and then he'd flicker his eyes a little bit and smile.

Emily purposely wasn't looking. She stared at the ceiling the entire time, watching the fan spin lazy circles, causing a poster on the far wall to flop pathetically. She didn't want to see it. Didn't want to put a face to the thing making her belly grow and kicking the hell out of her. She couldn't. She'd removed herself the first day, when she was lying, spread-eagled on the examination table, while the doctor took out something that looked like a skinny turkey baster and sucked it up with Justin's semen.

This was her second time. It was always hard, always difficult and emotional and even a little painful, but ultimately, it was worth it. It was worth being able to give a couple something they wouldn't otherwise be able to have. It was worth Justin's grin and the happy sound in his voice when he said to Brian, "I think the baby has my nose," and finished with, "What do you think?"

Emily smiled, listening to the low, reverberating sounds in Brian's throat as he replied, and focusing on that. Focusing on sound and nothing else.

"Mmmm, maybe," Brian said, comparing the noses of Emily and Justin. Both were pretty similar -- a little on the rounded side -- so it was hard to tell. But the mouth was definitely Justin's. The area between Emily's nose and top lip was rather flat, but the baby's was nicely curved. It looked soft.

"I'm printing plenty of pictures," the sonographer noted, looking to Brian and Justin, "So you can compare all you want."

"Thanks," Justin said kindly, even though he was pretty sure the lady was being snippy. Fucking bitch.

"I wanna see its junk," Brian murmured, pointing to the ultrasound machine as if he wanted the woman to hurry it up already. "Let's see what we've got here."

The sonographer, Margot or Marnie or something, used the controls to center in on a particular area. The baby flexed a little, stretching out one of its legs, and Justin bumped Brian's elbow with his own in a tiny gesture of amazement.

"So what is it?" Justin asked Mary, climbing off the stool for a closer look.

"Guess."

The man squinted his eyes, stared at the screen, and then tilted his head to the left, then to the right. Brian snorted. Justin looked just like he did at an art museum, practically bending over and peering through his legs to take in every angle of a painting.

"Ummm, girl?" Justin shrugged. "I dunno. I don't really see anyth- Oh, wait."

Margie zoomed in on an area and immediately, Brian and Justin grinned.

"Take pictures of  _that_ ," Brian said, nonchalantly kissing Justin's temple.

*****

"So I'm definitely craving ice cream," Justin said excitedly as soon as they climbed into the Corvette that really,  _really_  needed to be retired by now. "Or gelato. I think we should get some."

Brian scoffed. "I have to get back to work."

"No, you don't. You have to eat strawberry gelato. With me."

"I have a meeting at four."

"Cancel it."

"How about no?"

"We just found out what we're having, and you're concerned with  _work_?" Justin bit his lip to keep from laughing. He thought about throwing in a "honey" or "darling" for kicks, but decided against it because he probably  _would_  end up with a kick.

Brian reached over to crank up the radio -- something by Fleet Foxes -- and rolled his eyes. "So when's the last time you actually spent a full day at work?"

"Every day except for Fridays. You know this. Quit changing the subject."

"So if I stop by Mamma Mia's, get you your fucking gelato, and allow you to eat it in my office, will you shut up?"

Justin leaned over and kissed Brian's cheek. "Golly gee, you're a sweetheart."

*****

Jennifer loved hand-washing dishes.

Even though she had a brand new Kenmore dishwasher to go with her newly remodeled kitchen, there was nothing like rolling up her shirtsleeves, playing some Michael Bublé on the stereo, and getting elbow-deep in warm, soapy suds. It was calming, freeing, nothing but a quiet kitchen filled with music and cold hands filled with comfort.

She sighed, rinsing a coffee mug, and watched her reflection in the window.

When the phone rang, she was just finishing up, placing the last of the bowls in the rack and rinsing the soapsuds from her hands. She shook them off, mopped up the residual wetness with a dishtowel, and made her way over to the cordless telephone lying face down on the counter.

"Hello," she greeted, stroking one palm down the front of her shirt.

"It's a boy," Justin said immediately, his voice cheery over the line.

"Oh, honey!"

"Be proud. You're one of the first to know."

"Well, I better have been one of the first to know."

Justin laughed quietly. "Soooo..."

"So, I hope you have pictures to show me."

"Like, a million. Crotch shots and all."

"I can't wait to see them." Jennifer sniffed, trying to keep back the tears. " _Honeeey_."

"It's just a baby."

"It's  _just_  my very first grandchild.  _Just_  my baby boy's  _baby boy_."

"Ugh. Mom."

"Justin, I can cry if I want to!" The woman wiped the tears from her eyes with a dishtowel and didn't even try to fight back a bright smile. "Honey..."

"Stop saying that."

"Where are you? Can you come by the house? Or I can meet you..."

"Why don't we do dinner later? I'm sure Brian would  _love_  to have you over." Justin shot Brian a look and tried to keep from laughing when his eyes met a raised middle finger. He scratched at his chin and winked.

" _Okay_. Well, what time? Should I bring anything? I still have time to make some sort of casserole if you'd like me to-"

"I made jambalaya last night, and that's-"

"Always better the second day."

Justin smiled, stretching out on Brian's office couch. "So seven?"

"That sounds wonderful." Jennifer paused for a moment, and then came the inevitable, "Honeeey."

"Mom,  _mom_. I've gotta go."

Only wet sounds came from the other line until Jennifer had composed herself enough to mumble a, "Bye, sweetie."

*****

"You invited your  _mother_  over?" Brian asked, rolling his eyes and sifting through a stack of papers on his desk. "Should I plan on spending the evening with Michael?"

"Oh, shut up. She wants to see the pictures. It's her first grandchild."

"We own a scanner."

"It's not the same." Justin stood, stretched out the kinks in his back, and made his way across the office until he was standing by Brian's side. He straddled the other man's lap and sat, facing Brian, breathing the scent of strawberry gelato against his lips. "So do  _you_  wanna tell Debbie or should I? I've already braved her today, so I kind of think it's your turn."

"Please no."

"Please yes."

"Why don't we do it by snail mail? Doesn't Hallmark make those stupid little cards?"

Justin laughed. "Or we can casually wear 'It's a Boy!' pins on our shirts and walk by her real slow."

"Think I can pull some strings and have Jet Air fly a banner by her house?"

"Why don't we just tell Michael?"

Brian raised an eyebrow for a moment, nodded slightly as if to say, 'Now  _that_ 's an idea,' but then rolled his eyes. "Yeah fucking right."

"'Now what the hell do you think you're doing not telling me, hm?'" Justin mimicked in a high-pitched voice, slapping Brian upside the head. "'I practically  _raised_  you, and you don't even have the decency to tell me about Little Sunshine?'"

"Fuck it." Brian rubbed the side of his face.

"Exactly."

*****

"Eeeee!" Daphne shrieked, wrapping her arms around Justin's shoulders and planting a hard kiss on his cheek. "I'm so fucking  _excited_! Oh my God, he's going to be  _the_  cutest kid ever." She snorted. "Besides mine, of course."

"Agh, I can't believe it," Justin murmured, collapsing into the Chanders-Hyatt recliner and pulling out the footrest. "I'm having a son. A  _son_."

"It's about time, I think. Sheesh. You and Brian have been together for like, a million years."

"Stop being a geek. This isn't some stupid romantic thing. Just, I don't know, I wanted a kid."

Daphne huffed a laugh, grabbed her wine glass, and took a loud, unladylike gulp. "Not romantic, my ass. The fact that Brian is actually in on this speaks volumes."

"Well, it wasn't a spur of the moment thing, you know. More an idea of like, five or six years in the making. And anyway, he likes kids."

"Pssht."

"Okay, he hates them. But he likes  _his_  kid. Gus. Gus is like, everything to him. And I think the relationship he has with him is the reason he was so cool about this. He gets why I'd want one of my own."

"Tell me how that's not romantic." Daphne raised an eyebrow, downing the last of her Merlot.

"It's..." Justin started, rubbing at the back of his head with his knuckles. He sighed through a quick laugh. "It's... Okay, yeah. Maybe a little."

" _To-ta-ly_  romantic."

"I get the point."

"Romantic!"

"Shut up."

Daphne grinned, leaning over the side of the couch to kiss what she could reach of Justin's cheek. "So have you picked out any names yet?"

"Not yet. I've been meaning to grab a baby name book or something but it all feels a little lame."

"Well, I've got just the thing." Daph rolled off the couch and sauntered over to the painted black bookshelf mounted on the wall. She pulled out a paperback book reading, "BABY NAMES," in pink and blue alphabet blocks, and tossed it into Justin's lap. "Take it. I'm not using it anymore."

Justin laughed. "Yeah, you say that. Next year you'll be knocked up again."

"Gross. In that case, shoot me."

"I'll shoot you and bury you along with  _this_." He waved the book around with a grin pinned on his face. "But it's not like you've actually used it."

"Francesca."

"Your great-grandmother."

"But it's totally in the book. Means 'free.'"

"I believe you."

"I was just saying."

"I know." Justin rolled his eyes and began flipping through the yellowing, dusty pages. He laughed, turning to Daphne and declaring, "I'm totally naming the kid 'Lancelot.'"

"That's in there?"

"Lancelot. Oh God, he’d grow up to be a porn star. Lance- _a lot_."

"Or he wouldn't grow up at all. Playgrounds are brutal these days."

"I wonder if they have 'Galahad...'"

*****

" _Christ_ , Justin, if you read me one more fucked up baby name I'll deck you. I swear."

Justin laughed and turned the next page in the book. "I can't help it. Let's name him 'Betelgeuse.'"

Brian closed his laptop with a swift  _thack_ , calmly placed it on the coffee table, and stood from where he was seated on the living room couch. Justin blinked twice, sloooowly closed the name book, and bit his bottom lip to keep from laughing.

"Don't," he said, skin jumping as Brian began to move over toward the armchair where he was sitting. "Don't, don't,  _don't_." He squeaked, shutting his eyes tight and pulling his legs up against his chest. "No, no, no!"

Brian dropped his knees onto the chair, straddling the better part of Justin's body, and leaned down to wrap his arms around the other man's frame.

" _Stop_! I'll bite you."

Brian snorted. Was that supposed to be a bad thing? He bared his teeth and gently nipped Justin's nose, breathing a hot, breathy laugh all over Justin's face. "Go for it, Drac."

"Dracula's a pussy."

"Lestat, then."

Justin laughed, eyes shining, then licked Brian's stubbly cheek. "Did you know that Anne Rice's first name is actually 'Howard?'"

"Are you seriously trying to talk lit with me right before I'm about to fuck you?"

" _Mmm_ , you know how books make me horny."

Brian kissed Justin's mouth, then his neck, and as he made his way down, licking and sucking at each bit of flesh he uncovered, he whispered, " _Pride and Prejudice_."

"Uhhh."

" _War and Peace_."

"Yeah."

" _Anna Karenina_."

"Fuck me."

" _Jane Eyre_."

"Okay, getting a little less horny here."

Brian burst into laughter, pulling out Justin's quickly-filling cock and licking the very tip, eliciting a throaty groan from the other man. " _The Joy of Gay Sex_."

*****

Jennifer hadn't been expecting this. She'd grabbed the Baby Gap bag from the back seat of her car, locked the doors, checked her lipstick in the side mirror, and slowly walked to the front door.

The kitchen lights were on, she could see the pot of jambalaya on the oven, and hell, this was her son's house -- she could walk right in if she pleased. God knew  _Justin_  didn't extend any courtesy when visiting  _her_.

She hadn't heard anything at first -- just the gentle simmer of cooking food, the low hum of the refrigerator, a quick  _pop_  of the fire in the living room... But then... Jesus Christ. She heard...she heard a soft sort of squeal, and then a lower, reverberating groan, like someone was in pain.

She should have known. Jennifer should have fucking known. My God, why hadn't she  _known_?

Immediately confused, and maybe even a bit enticed by the sound, Jennifer sidled into the living room to see what was up, and froze, dropping the bag of froggy and ducky gowns on the hardwoods with a dull  _thump_.

Justin was straddling Brian's lap, arms wrapped tightly around the other man's neck, and Brian was thrusting up into him, eyes squeezed shut and mouth open in a perfect "O." At the sight of a thick, pink penis disappearing into her son's... Oh God, she couldn't  _think_  about it... At the sight of... _that_ , Jennifer turned right around and walked as quickly as she could out of the living room and into the foyer.

" _Holy fuck_!" She heard someone yell, and she honestly didn't care to find out  _who_  it'd been, because at that moment, she was leaning, elbows to the dining room table, head in her hands.

There was a rumbling noise from inside the living room, and then Brian came sauntering in, jeans pulled on yet unfastened, followed by what appeared to resemble Justin, but was more like a walking tomato with a shock of messy blond hair on top.

"Hi," Jennifer said, turning to the couple, who looked as if they were about to die of mortification. Well, one of them, anyway. The other looked surprisingly calm, like he and Justin had only been playing a rousing game of Chess.

"Mother Taylor," Brian noted, giving a quick wave. He had bite marks on his shoulder and something wet on the skin above his navel. Jennifer didn't want to know.

Justin closed his eyes, and as calmly as his body would allow, whispered, "I said seven. It's barely six."

"It's six thirty. I got back early from the mall and decided to just come on over and-"

" _Mom_."

"Yes?"

"I'm not gonna be able to look at you for about four years, so can you just go back home or something?"

Jennifer scoffed, moving over to the stovetop to check on the jambalaya. She pulled out a large, wooden spoon and began to stir the contents of the pot. "Honey, I've seen you naked before."

"Not since I was  _eight_." Justin swallowed, rubbing at his face because really, he could not  _believe_  this. Holy fucking fuck, he couldn't believe it. "You've never seen me...me..."

"Fucking?" Brian finished, slapping Justin's clothed ass on his way to the fridge.

"Well look," Jennifer murmured, clearly embarrassed but trying not to show it. "It's not like I didn't know you have sex. I mean,  _obviously_."

"You're not allowed to say that to me again."

"And it's just you and Brian, so..."

"Doesn't matter. Oh my fucking  _God_ , I can't believe this just happened."

Justin was...disturbed. Yeah, that was it. Disturbed. Deeply, completely, utterly fucking disturbed. His entrails curled up and quivered at the thought of what his mother had just seen.

He'd been in Brian's lap, and  _Christ_ , that was when Brian had been thrusting up into him so hard Justin hadn't been able to do anything but squeal and groan and bite the salty skin of the other man's shoulder. And Jennifer had  _seen_  that. She'd heard Justin -- her son -- making sex sounds. Oh God. Ooooh God.

Jennifer was...shocked. So yes, she knew Brian and Justin had a more than healthy sex life. She knew that. She knew that they probably did it multiple times a day in all kinds of kinky ways, but seeing it...? That was shocking.

True, she hadn't seen much of Justin just then besides his behind -- which she'd wiped and cleaned and diapered, so that hadn't been a big deal -- but she'd seen Brian's... Well, she'd seen  _Brian_  up Justin's behind, and she'd heard certain noises that she'd only heard that one time at the hotel twenty years prior when Justin had thought the bathroom was soundproof. So...shocked. Yes, shocked.

"What's the big deal?" Brian asked, chugging down a fair portion of the water bottle he'd pulled from the refrigerator. "That was the best position you could've seen us in. Not like I had Justin spread-eagled, eating his ass."

" _Fuck_ , Brian. Eew." Justin clutched his face and groaned. "God, and wipe off your stomach."

"You don't wanna lick it off?"

"Shut up." He turned to Jennifer, hands on his hips, and just shook his head because he didn't know what else to say.

"That didn't happen," Jennifer said, consoling, tapping the spoon off on the side of the pot and placing it in the holder. "I saw nothing."

"You  _heard_  nothing."

"I saw nothing and heard nothing. I just arrived to have dinner with my son and to see pictures of my grandson when you and Brian came walking out of the living room. Okay?"

Brian snorted. "And Brian had Justin's cum all over his chest and Justin was walking all lopsided."

" _Brian_!" Justin lunged at him, laughing loudly when he was captured in strong arms and twirled around in a circle. Brian kissed Justin's forehead, ran fingers across the nape of his neck, and smirked.

Jennifer watched them, twisting each other up in a play-wrestle, and couldn't help but smile. They were sweet with each other, really. Maybe a little wicked and unconventional, but sweet all the same. She huffed a laugh. And honestly, the sex... Well, that certainly wasn't anything to apologize for. They were in love. Nothing wrong with that.

*****

Gus really had no idea where he was. He thought that maybe, just maybe it was a train station, but then again, there were no trains -- just lots and lots of people.

His head felt a little wobbly, and he was pretty sure he was going to pass out soon, even though Addison was standing real close and whispering something about how they were going to dance and eat all night. That really made no sense, but Addison looked happy about it, so whatever.

Gus shrugged, spat on the floor because his mouth tasted bitter, like too many crushed pills, and followed his friend into a room that was lit up like the inside of a fun house. People were everywhere -- mostly chicks -- and some of them were topless, their free breasts bouncing up and down as they danced to some loud, techno song that was giving Gus a headache. Or no, he already had a headache. The techno song was just making it worse.

He stared down at his hands. They were purple in the black-light, and the outline of a crudely drawn penis was squiggled on his palm in red Sharpie. On his right hand. It was drawn on his right hand, which meant that he hadn't done it, but he couldn't remember who had.

"Want a smoke?" A hairy guy asked him, pulling an unlit joint from his pocket and holding it in front of Gus's face.

The teen shook his head "no," and wandered off, because Addison had left him and he couldn't figure out where he'd gone. Where the fuck was Addison?

"Addison, where the fuck are you?" His voice disappeared as soon as it left his lips, and the only thing that came out was some sort of depressed croak -- dry, like his cracked lips.

A completely nude girl slipped up to him, her black mass of pubic hair brushing against his wrist as she pressed in close and licked a long, wet stripe from his jaw to the corner of his eye. Her breath smelled like alcohol and something else, and Gus stepped away, stomach twisting in a funny way that made him want to laugh.

"I'm Hanley," the girl slurred, drool puddling in the corners of her mouth every time she giggled psychotically. "Wanna fuck me?" She turned around backwards, bent in half at the waist, and spread her cheeks until the wide, stretched hole of her overused vagina gaped at Gus in the purple light of the train station that really wasn't a train station.

He took off walking at a steady pace, feeling like he was moving in place because Hanley was still beside him, pulling her left breast up to her lips and sucking on her own nipple. Was she supposed to be able to do that? Gus shook his head, gently pushing her off when she tried to grab for his zipper.

"Addison!" He yelled, shoving through a wall that was somehow not a wall but a door. He found himself in pitch-black darkness, with a clearly masculine hand pressing up under his shirt and something wet rubbing against the crotch of his pants. "Addison!"

He started seeing things, then, quick flashes of the room he was in but lightened, as if the blackness wasn't really there, but a figment of his imagination.

It  _was_  a guy stroking his stomach and mouthing his denim-covered cock, and then a girl was kissing his mouth and Gus closed his eyes for a second because he didn't know what he was supposed to do. Was he supposed to scream, or kick, or run? He couldn't run, because his legs felt paralyzed and his pants were being unzipped, and suddenly a male hand was on his dick and Gus was twisting and twisting away and yet he didn't seem to be moving.

"Don't," he said quietly, and then louder, and then the hand was gone and the girl's mouth on Gus's lips was replaced with the boy's, and suddenly Gus was kissing a guy and he couldn't stop. He wanted to stop, but he couldn't. His head kept swimming and the other boy's face looked shiny and gray with smudged face paint and Gus wondered again where he was and why everyone had their face painted.

He stepped back, against a wall, and reached up to rub at his own face, feeling the crustiness of paint and watching as it crumbled off and dropped like orange and purple dandruff onto his black shirt.

"Let me out," he said to the boy, who was breathing on his face and kept sniffing loudly, as if he had a snotty nose. "Let me out."

The guy grabbed Gus's hand and led him to the door-wall, wall-door, and then Gus was dizzy, so dizzy he thought he was going to pass out. A hand latched onto his hair and pulled, and it was some girl named Pepper Gus had seen before. She had dyed red hair, a nose ring and a sleeve, and Gus remembered staring at it one day at the tattoo parlor, while Addison was getting the Celtic symbol on his wrist.

"Pepper," Gus said, scratching at a certain spot on his neck because the skin was itching and on fire. "Pepper Pepper." He couldn't stop saying her name, over and over again.

"C'mon," she murmured, leading Gus through what looked like a hallway and smelled like a terminal and felt hot and sticky like a basement. They walked and walked and there were people having sex and yelling shit Gus couldn't understand, and then there was cold, cold air and all Gus tasted was dirt because it was all around him, muddying up his clothes, filling his mouth, hurting his teeth and tasting like iron and earth.

*****

"So look what I got you," Jennifer insisted, pulling open the Babies R Us bag and removing the three gowns she'd purchased earlier that day. "I thought they were just  _so sweet_  that I had to get them."

Justin snorted, taking the articles of clothing and holding them up. Fuck, they looked small. He could hardly imagine something tiny enough to fit inside. "Thanks," he said, kissing his mother on the cheek and folding the gowns under his hands. "They're...great."

"And comfy." Jennifer beamed, pulling a terrycloth rattle-type thing from the bag and placing it in Justin's lap. "Got this, too. It was on sale."

"Anything else?"

"Just one more thing." The woman pulled a gift card from her purse and handed it to her son. "From Molly."

Justin narrowed his eyes. "Molly doesn't know shit."

"But it  _will_  be from Molly once I tell her." Jennifer smiled. "Oh, honey."

"Don't start that again."

"I hope he looks just like you. You were a beautiful baby, all bald and pink and perfect."

Brian snorted from the couch where he was sitting, working on his laptop. "That sounds  _adoooorable_. Honey."

Justin narrowed his eyes at him, before leaning over and picking up the stack of ultrasound photos from where they rested on the coffee table. "So do you think he looks like me?" He asked Jennifer, handing her the profile.

"I'm getting alcohol," Brian grumbled, dropping his laptop off on the couch cushion beside him and making to stand up. "Anybody want any?"

"Scotch."

"Spiked with arsenic?"

"Be nice."

Brian smirked. "Anything for you,  _Mom_?"

"No thanks, honey."

"Weed?"

" _Brian_!" Justin laughed in disbelief, stretching out to kick the other man in the shin.

"E? Coke?"

Jennifer widened her eyes, then laughed. "Maybe I'll take some water."

"Spiked with-"

Justin flipped him off.

*****

Pepper had a shitty car. A shitty fucking car. It smelled like McDonald's food and old puke, and when the girl pulled up in front of Brian and Justin's house, Gus was relieved, to say the least. He felt like he'd been holding his breath the entire forty minute ride over, but he knew that wasn't true, because he'd been throwing his guts up every five minutes or so and finishing with a sharp, burning intake of cold air.

Gus stank, his mouth tasted funny, and he wanted nothing more than to drink an entire gallon of water and then hurl it all back up into an actual toilet. Not in a patch of grass on the side of the road. Not in a back seat. Not in a giant Burger King cup that still held ice and an inch of soda. A toilet.

The slam of Pepper's door about killed him, sending his brain practically spasming into the worst pain the kid had ever felt, and then the back door was opening and a cold, feminine hand was tugging on the neck of his shirt.

Gus stretched, groaning, and climbed out of the back seat. His spine felt twisted, arms and legs ached like something awful, and that pounding between his ears just would not fucking stop.

There was another car in the driveway -- a forest green Toyota -- and at that moment, Gus had no idea why he’d mumbled for Pepper to drive him there, to the monster house in the rural area right outside Pittsburgh, instead of back to Lainey’s, where she could fuck him better and cuddle up all around him while he slept.

Except he couldn’t have gone to Lainey’s, because Lainey was no longer his girlfriend. Fucking bitch. Fucking slutbag, screwing Asher Jamison  _right in front_  of him. Right there on the couch, right when Gus arrived.

He remembered going over to Addison's house, and then… That’s all he remembered -- until he started getting flashes of some kind of party house with an orgy and just lots and lots of people. Lots and lots of people he didn’t know.

He leaned over and threw up.

*****

The doorbell rang, which was odd.

No one  _ever_  rang the doorbell, and if they did, it was either a very determined Girl Scout who’d trekked all the way out in the middle of nowhere to sell her goddamn cookies, or a total stranger asking for directions.

Brian bumped the fridge door closed with his bare foot and placed Jennifer’s bottle of water on the counter.

“I’m fucking  _coming_!” He yelled when the ringing became persistent, a ringringringringringring, one right after the other.

He sauntered over to the door, wrapped steady fingers around the doorknob, and grumbled, “You better not be expecting me to buy anything, because-” He froze.

Gus was standing there, held upright by a freaky girl with piercings, looking utterly and completely wasted out of what little mind he had.

It was pink under his eyes where the skin wasn’t covered in cracking orange and purple paint, and his eyeballs themselves were bloodshot and watery, tears spilling over the edges and into the rim of dark eyelashes.

“What the fuck’s going on?” Brian asked harshly, grabbing his son by the arm and jerking him inside. Pepper made a move to step in, but the man shook his head “no,” barring her from entering.

“I’m Pepper,” Freaky Girl said, twisting the sleeves of her shirt until they were stretched out and ugly. “Gus was… Well, I know him sort of, and he was freaking out, so I brought him outside and he started screaming and wanted me to drive him home and-”

Brian stopped her, pulling his son in close and checking his pupils. “One: What the fuck is he on? Two: Who the fuck  _are you_? Three: Where the fuck have you been?” His voice was low and gravely, like he hadn’t spoken in days.

Pepper shrugged, biting her pierced lip and sniffing loudly. “There was a mix passed around at the party, but I think probably Addison gave him something-”

“ _Shut up_!” Gus yelled at the girl, shaking his head and kicking at one spot on the hardwood floor over and over and over until Brian had to grab him to keep the kid from practically having a full-on seizure. “I wasn’t… I wasn’t with Addison, I…”

Brian ran to grab Jennifer’s bottle of water, and brought it back to his son, unscrewing the cap and  _forcing_  him to drink it. If he didn’t drink the entire thing in thirty seconds, Brian was going to… He was going to… Very possibly freak out and go crazy and cry or something. That  _was not_  happening.

“You  _were_  with that sleazebag!” Pepper yelled back, stepping over the threshold. “Addison is bad news. You  _know_  that.”

Brian leaned his head back, stretching his neck and wishing it would just crack in half, leaving his head free to roll off his shoulders and onto the floor. “Who. The fuck. Are you?”

He could hear Justin and Jennifer making a commotion in the other room, and it was just a matter of moments before they were in the foyer. He didn’t need this. He didn’t fucking need this.

“Pepper Popawitz,  _sir_. I’m a tattoo artist. I troll my little brother’s parties to make sure no one  _dies_.”

“Addison’s your brother?”

“Addison’s a disgusting little asshole. He’s my brother’s friend.”

Justin entered, Jennifer hot on his heels, and it took exactly four seconds for Brian to tell them to fuck off, and then turn around, change his mind, and send the two of them and Gus into the kitchen, yelling something about water and watching the kid and taking him upstairs for a cold shower.

“Where’s he live?”

“ _What_?”

“Where. Does. Addison. Live? Are you slow or something?  _Jesus_.”

“I don’t  _know_ , okay?”

“You fucking know.”

“I  _don’t_!” Pepper was practically crying by now, swiping at angrily running mascara with the edge of her sleeve.

Brian pursed his lips, blinking furiously, wanting to punch a wall and break something. Then he remembered... “Where does he go to church?”

That took the girl by surprise. She sniffed, cleared her throat, and whispered a “huh?” somewhere between an eye wipe and a shrug.

“ _Where’s he fucking go to church_?”

“Look, Mr… Gus’s dad. I don’t know where Addison lives, I don’t know where he goes to church. Okay?”

Brian nodded, closing his eyes, trying to calm down, and then leaned to press a hand against the doorframe, hovering over Pepper. “Go back to the little party. If he’s there, tell him he’s dead.”

*****

Jennifer finally went home after she was sure Gus was only high and not dying, and left Justin to get the teenager in the shower and Brian to sort things out.

“I don’t wanna take a shower,” Gus said, crying, as he took off his shirt and leaned back against the bathroom door. “Don’t…wanna shower.” He was out of breath, exhausted, and Justin just wanted to hug him and never let him go. But he couldn’t, because that would be consoling, and that wasn’t what Gus needed. Gus needed to know that he'd fucked up. He didn’t need someone to kiss him all better and send him to bed.

“C’mon,” Justin said firmly, pointing to Gus’s pants and moving over to turn on the shower. “You’re doing this.”

“I don’t wanna.”

“I don’t care, Gus.”

The kid sniffed, tears dripping off his face, but complied, unfastening his pants and pulling them off. He walked over to the shower and Justin helped him in, gently pushing him under the freezing stream of water and cringing when Gus started bawling -- fucking  _bawling_  -- like he was a young child again.

He tilted his face up, closing his eyes to the cascade of cool, sobering water, and was so thirsty, still, that he started drinking it. Dried remains of purple and orange paint darkened under the wetness, turning back to liquid and dripping off his skin like colored tears. It puddled on the shower floor and each individual drop merged together into a reddish blob, which swirled down the drain at the blink of an eye.

Justin watched him. Watched him pale with drugs, skinny with his envied high metabolism, and slightly pitiful, his dark hair flat and stuck to the skin of his face. Poor kid. Poor fucking kid. Gus kept crying, leaning against the shower wall to keep him upright, shoulders shaking with sobs. He looked so young, so innocent. So...

God. And there went Justin's resolve.

He grabbed an extra bottle of water from where it rested by the sink, and went to turn off the shower barely a minute after he'd turned it on. He couldn’t do this. He could do it with Brian easily, just because Brian was old enough to know better and  _not_  a sixteen-year-old kid. Gus made stupid decisions, yeah, but would Justin have made the same ones had he been his age and in his position? Probably.

He switched the water off, snatched a towel from the warmer, and pulled Gus out, wrapping the towel around his shoulders and tugging him in close.

Justin was getting water spots all over his shirt and jeans, his cheek was wet from pressing up against Gus’s, but that was okay. He loved Gus. Gus was a part of Brian, which meant he was somehow a part of Justin, as well.

“What happened?” He asked, running a hand through Gus’s soaked hair before pulling away.

The kid shrugged as he began to dry himself off.

“Well, if you wanna talk…”

Gus nodded, still crying, but suddenly looking very defensive about it. He told Justin to go away, and then covered his face up with the towel, crying loudly into the cotton fabric.

Justin left and went to lie on the bed instead, leaving the door cracked just in case.

*****

“You’re  _not_  coming to get him,” Brian said into the phone, leaning back against the refrigerator door and closing his eyes. He had a bitch of a headache.

“You called to tell me that a girl who regularly searches her brother’s parties for people she’s afraid might  _die_  brought my son to your house, and you’re telling me I can’t come get him?”

“I said you’re  _not_  coming to get him -- I never said you  _couldn't_.”

“Well, you’ll see what I will and will not do when I show up at your house.  _Goddammit_. He’s okay, isn’t he?”

“No, he died. I was actually calling to invite you to his funeral.”

“ _Fuck you_.”

“He’s fine. Wasted and probably going to be hung over for the rest of his life, but fine.”

“I’m coming to get him.”

“You’re  _not_ -”

Fuck. Dial tone.

Brian bounced the back of his head against the stainless steel of the fridge door and wondered how long it’d be before Lindsay called. Of course he hadn’t called Melanie first, but Linds wasn’t answering her cell so he'd tried the house, and lo and behold, Jenny had answered and rushed to Mommie Dearest. Stupid kid.

Brian went upstairs to speak with Gus in the meantime, but found his son stretched out on the bed with Justin, whispering to him through tears.  _Christ_ , he cried a lot when he was messed up. Definitely didn't get that from  _Brian_ , of course. Hmmph. Must've been Lindsay.

*****

Lindsay, Melanie and Jenny showed up later on, each of them with a different expression on their face. Lindsay looked as if she could break into tears at any moment, her face all twisted up with worry; Melanie looked as if she’d just sniffed a cat’s ass, of course; and Jenny was amused as hell, laughing when she saw Gus wrap a pillow around his head and heard him tell everybody to stop talking so fucking loud.

“You’re not taking him,” Brian said to Lindsay in the peace and quiet of one of the guest bedrooms –- the one Justin had picked out for the baby.

“ _Brian_.”

“Let me deal with it.”

“Look, if you’re trying to prove something…”

“I’m  _not_  trying to prove anything.” God, Brian was pissed. He ran fingers through his hair and tried not to think so much, tried not to think so much, fucking  _tried_  not to  _think_  so much. “Let me keep my fucking kid for the night. He’s wasted, he’s going to have a bitch of a hangover in the morning, and he does not need to be with a bunch of mothering control freaks right now.”

“Oh, because you’re not a control freak?”

“Not a mothering one.”

Lindsay scoffed. “He was at a party?”

“You know  _that boy_  you said he wasn’t allowed to see anymore?”

“Christ.”

“I’m taking care of it.”

“I’m afraid.”

Brian smirked, twisting the door handle to exit. “Don’t be.”

*****

By ten-thirty the next morning, Brian had the home address of one Addison Townsend plugged into his GPS navigator, thanks to Cynthia, and was on his way to 237 Crown Court St. with a smile on his face that worried his partner more than just a little.

Justin went back inside to make sure Gus was still alive, and then went about disassembling and moving furniture out of the last guest bedroom on the right, even though he technically didn’t have any furniture to put  _in_  yet.

“I don’t know what you’re doing, but  _stop_!” Gus screamed after a while from his room, causing Justin to double over in laugher.

“Sorry!” The man yelled, continuing to scoot a squeaky desk into the hall. “But this is part of it!”

“And if you yell again I’ll kill you!”

To be fair, Justin  _did_  make Gus coffee later, but the kid refused to drink it because it wasn’t a white chocolate mocha from Starbucks.

“You’re just like your father,” Justin noted, pouring himself a mug and taking a long sip. “Except your tastes are exactly opposite.”

“Stop talking.”

“Sorry.”

“Where’d Dad go?”

“I thought you didn’t want me to talk.”

“Talk  _quietly_.”

Justin snorted, then pretended to seal his mouth.

“Oh God,” Gus grumbled, palming his head. “He didn’t.”

“He did.”

“ _Fuck_.”

“Yep.” Justin nodded, pushing his coffee mug toward Gus and motioning for him to try it.

The kid shook his head “no” and sighed. “So can I count on being a total social outcast on Monday?”

“You can probably count on never seeing Addison again.”

Gus’s eyes widened. “Dad wouldn’t…”

“Kill him?” Justin laughed darkly. “No, but he’ll threaten, and manipulate, and do all kinds of crazy shit until Addison is crying for his mommy and promising never to look at you again.”

“Addison’s kind of an asshole.”

Justin smiled, relieved that Gus actually saw that. “You know,” he said, pulling his mug back and taking another sip. “A person probably isn’t your friend if he gets you fucked up and then abandons you.”

Gus shrugged and looked away.

“You know that, right?”

“I guess.”

“Good.”

*****

Brian arrived at around lunchtime, a smug expression painted on his face and a bag full of take-out clutched under his arm. He dropped the bag off on the kitchen counter and began removing cartons of Chinese food, completely ignoring the raised eyebrows pointed in his direction from Gus and Justin.

"Don't think you're not telling us," Gus murmured nervously, propping his elbows up on the table and giving his dad a look. "I should be in bed right now with a pillow over my head, and yet I'm here. Waiting."

"Not my problem." The smug look disappeared and was replaced with a full-on grin.

" _Brian_." Justin moved over to him, wrapping his arms around the other man's waist and looking up into his face. "What'd you do?"

"Let's just say that Mr. and Mrs. Townsend will soon be getting an eyeful."

"You didn't."

Brian laughed, bending down to kiss Justin's lips before twisting out of his grasp and moving to the refrigerator. "Y'know, Sonny Boy," he said, turning toward Gus. "People your age really  _do_  accept the friend requests of perfect strangers."

"Oh fuck." Gus blanched. "You  _Facebooked_  him?"

"Not him. Reagan Popawitz. Stupid kid just  _loves_  showing off the happenings of his parties. And so prompt he is with posting pictures." Brian snorted. "Good thing Addison's not camera shy -- especially while consuming a cocktail of illegal substances."

Gus dropped his head onto the table, shoulders shaking in a nervous, pained release of laughter. "You're evil," he managed, pushing his nose against the cold, stainless steel surface of the countertop.

Justin agreed. "I've been telling him that for years."

*****

After lunch, Justin dropped the empty carton of chow mein noodles into the trash and yawned, sucking the tiny pieces of noodle from between his teeth. He  _really_  hadn't needed that. Ugh, the sodium.

And  _God_ , he  _was_  turning into Brian. Daphne was right. Daphne was fucking  _right_.

Justin rubbed his fists over his sleepy eyes and scrunched up his face, trying to decide whether or not he needed to do a half hour on the treadmill. On one hand, he was sleepy and a nap sounded positively delicious, but on the other, he was getting a little bit of a belly. Not much, not enough to be noticeable clothed, but yeah, he'd gained ten or fifteen pounds over the years.  _God_ , he needed to run on the treadmill. Fucking treadmill. Fucking-

"Justin?"

"Mm?" Justin turned his attention to Brian, who was at the sink, squeezing out too much dish detergent and dumping in a stack of dirty dishes.

He didn't say anything, just grabbed a sponge and began squeezing it under a stream of water, but Justin got it. He nodded, whispered a, "Good luck," and pinched Brian's hip on his way past.

Gus was sitting at the island counter, head to the countertop, drifting in and out of consciousness. His head hurt like a motherfucker, and he basically wanted to die. Immediately. Axe, please. It was this throbbing ache inside his head, inside his  _brain_ , like thousands of ninjas were running around in there, beating the hell out of his skull.

He closed his eyes, wondering if his dad had any pain killers. But then,  _fuck_ , those were what got him in that situation in the first place. Pain killers, alcohol, some random shit. He had absolutely no idea what all he'd taken the night before. He didn't remember taking  _anything_ , to be honest. But he had at some point, that much he knew for sure.

"So Gus," Brian murmured, back turned. He stared at his hands in the soapy water, and tried to focus on that -- his fingers turning pink in the warmth. Tried to keep his voice even so he didn't sound like a pussy.

"Don't talk, Dad."

"What the fuck were you thinking?"

"Did you hear me at all? Don't. Talk. Please."

Brian rolled his eyes, shutting off the water in one swift movement and reaching for a paper towel. "Tell me what the fuck you were thinking."

" _Dad_!"

"You're talking to me, okay?" Brian dried his hands off and crumpled the paper towel until it was nothing but a damp, squishy little ball in his palm. "You're going to fucking talk to me. I don't give a shit how much your head hurts."

Gus groaned, covering his ears with his hands. "Just... _whisper_  or something."

" _Dammit_!" Brian yelled, moving over to his son and pulling out the adjacent bar stool. He plopped down, ass hitting the wood almost painfully, and hovered near the kid until Gus had no choice but to sit up straight or get up and leave.

"What do you  _want_?" The teen asked defensively, smoothing his hair down with sauce-stained fingers and sighing. "I don't know fucking anything. Didn't Justin tell you what we talked about last night? Figured he would."

No, Justin hadn't told him. Not that Brian hadn't asked, because he had. Multiple times. Justin had just shrugged, stretching out his legs in bed and turning over onto his stomach. "You'll have to ask him yourself," he'd said in the moments before sleep.

"Justin didn't tell me," Brian murmured, reaching out to tentatively grab a lock of his son's hair. "So, what? What happened?"

Gus shrugged, pulling away from his father's tender gesture. "I told you. I. Don't. Know. It's like I fucking woke up at that place. I  _still_  don't know where I was..."

"Before, I mean."

"Before?" Gus sighed, turning on his stool until he was facing away from his father. "I was with Addison. That's the last thing I remember before blacking out. We were at his house. On the couch."

Brian cleared his throat and placed his hand on his son's shoulder, trying to get him to turn back around. "Were you drinking anything?"

"I don't know... Maybe." He rolled his eyes. "Just stop interrogating me, okay? It was stupid, I shouldn't have been with Addison, blah, blah,  _blah_. The end."

"I thought you were with your girlfriend."

Gus snorted, sniffing back the beginnings of...watery eyes...and shrugged. "Lainey's a whore. I hate her."

Brian swallowed, watching the way his son's back rose and fell every time he breathed. "Thought that was a good thing."

"That I hate her?"

"That she's a whore."

Gus didn't laugh at Brian's pathetic attempt at a joke. He just sniffed harder and finally, with a deep breath, turned back around. His hands were shaky. "I caught her with somebody else." He shrugged again, simply kept shrugging, even though he didn't know why. "But it doesn't matter."

Brian nodded, because he didn't know what to say. He wasn't good at this -- never had been. Wasn't good at talking.

"She's  _such_  a bitch, Dad." Gus rubbed at his eyes. "Like, this was our anniversary, okay? Our anniversary. Six months. And we were supposed to be staying the night together for the first time. Her parents are in Cabo, and I told Mom I was staying the night with Kyle, so..."

"So you were gonna fuck Lainey all night?"

"Yeah. And like, sleep and stuff." Gus shrugged. "I kind of wanted to do that, you know?"

Brian nodded, inwardly groaning at the fact that he'd apparently spawned a romantic. How the fuck had that happened? Really. How? Not that he didn't get what Gus was saying, because he did. He understood wanting to just...sleep with someone. But ultimately, the mechanics of producing this lovesick kid was lost on him. He sighed.

"Hey," he said quietly, absentmindedly tapping his son on the chin. "Forget about it. It's-"

"Stupid. Yeah, I know."

Brian shrugged. "I didn't say that, Sonny Boy."

"Then  _what_ , Dad? What?" Gus coughed, reaching up to swipe at his eyes. "What're you even planning on saying to me?"

The problem was that Brian had no idea what he was planning on saying to Gus. What was he supposed to say? "I'm sorry your girlfriend screwed around on you but that doesn't mean you can go off and get fucked up?" He  _couldn't_  say that, because that would mean that he was the biggest hypocrite on Earth, and Brian just wasn't interested in that title.

 _Of course_  he didn't want Gus doing drugs -- especially not at sixteen. He didn't want him getting hurt, or sick, or fucking himself up before he was even established in the world. But how was he supposed to tell him that? How was he supposed to explain this to him without painting a giant 'H' on his forehead?

Gus stared at his father, tears leaking slowly out the corners of his eyes, and sniffed. "Dad? What?"

Brian sighed, fixing his mouth in a straight line, and shrugged. He outstretched one of his arms and wrapped it around his son's back, pulling the kid gently against his chest.

Gus froze for a second, face pressed into his dad's shirt, but then relaxed, allowing himself to just...breathe, crumpling up real small and wrapping his arms around Brian in a loose embrace.

Brian stroked the back of his son's neck, rubbing his chin in the kid's soft hair, and closed his eyes. Gus still felt so young, like that five-year-old little boy who used to curl up in his father's lap at family gatherings and fall asleep before the night was over. Or that seven-year-old who fell off his scooter and squalled as his knees were bandaged with Spongebob Squarepants Band Aids. Or even the twelve-year-old who accidentally broke his own science fair project moments before his presentation and spent fifteen minutes in the bathroom with his arms around his father, crying in anger and frustration.

Brian kissed the top of his head, smelling the warm, citrus scent of Gus's shampoo, and sighed. "You know," he said, voice faltering and uneven. "Drugs and shit make you feel good and can be fun at the time, but you always feel like shit in the morning."

"Yeah," Gus whispered, sniffing against the fabric of his dad's shirt.

"And I know you know that, but I was just gonna..." Brian trailed off.

"I know."

"Okay, good."

The two of them sat in silence for a while, wrapped up in an embrace, and then Gus pulled away, tugging up the neck of his shirt to wipe the tear tracks from his cheeks. He sniffed, face reddening with embarrassment.

"Sorry," he said, looking away, focusing on his water glass which was now foggy and drenched with condensation.

Brian shook his head in protest, and ruffled his son's hair. "Your little friend's a prick."

Gus sighed. "Yeah. Probably."

"As long as we're in agreement."

The kid climbed off the stool and began clearing his place at the counter of the remainders of lunch. Water glass. Extra fork. Dirty spoon. He took everything to the sink and dumped it in amongst the dishes and soap, and simply stood there for a moment, turning the tap on and off, watching as water came flooding out and then disappeared at the blink of an eye.

Brian stood as well, stretched his back, and moved over to his son.

He paused behind him for what felt like a lifetime, before reaching out to place a hand on the kid's shoulder. "Hey," he said quietly, waiting until Gus turned to face him.

"Hm?"

Brian bit at the insides of his cheeks and stood a little taller. "Love you."

Gus nodded, giving his father a small smile. "Love you, too."


	3. Twenty-Six Weeks

"You're so fucking hot," Brian whispered, running his hands down the expanse of Justin's sweaty chest. The man's skin felt smooth and damp, soft like butter beneath Brian's fingertips. "So hot."

" _Mmmm_ ," Justin hummed, delirious, carding his fingers through his soaked, blond locks and groaning at the sensations. "Fuck me. Do it."

Brian bent and licked at a pink nipple, sucking it between his lips as he worked his way down, down, down Justin's chest to his soft, quivering stomach. "Patience," he said, pressing a hard, wet kiss to the pale skin.

"I'm trying."

"Try harder."

"If I try any _harder_ , I'll come."

Brian laughed quietly, rubbing the tip of his nose down Justin's belly until he reached the dark golden curls framing a half-hard, throbbing pink cock. He buried his nose there, inhaling Justin's heady scent, like sex and oatmeal body wash, and trailed his hands down until they rested at the man's hips, gently rubbing against hipbones, palms grazing short, fine hairs that thickened the lower they went.

He took the tip of Justin's cock in his mouth, sucking lazily, his tongue swirling around the tip and eliciting sharp, breathy pants from the other man.

 _Christ_ , Brian couldn't get enough of this. Couldn't get enough of the taste of Justin's skin; the taste of his precum; the movement of his body, gently rising and falling with every intake of breath, every rumbling moan. Couldn't get enough of this feeling.

Brian lowered his head, taking in more of Justin's cock, reaching up with his hands to grab hold of the urgent, needy little fingers twisting and untwisting in his hair. He sucked, using his tongue to stroke up and down the shaft, tasting the arousal, the wet heat dripping from Justin in beads.

"Yeah," Justin whispered, eyes closed, mouth open. He clutched Brian's hands tightly, squeezing when pleasure peaked, digging in his nails when it became too much.

"Feel good?" Brian asked, pulling his mouth away to move down to Justin's balls, laving them with his tongue and sucking the skin before traveling lower still, gently tugging his hands from those of the other man in order push Justin's legs up and spread his cheeks.

He stuck out his tongue and licked a wet stripe from the base of the other man's warm, moist crack up to his perineum.

Justin panted, grabbing for his dick with one hand and using it to jerk slowly, up and down, up and down, the other hand rubbing at his face and smoothing across his open mouth. "Fuck me, fuck me," he chanted, gasping as a stiff, unrelenting tongue breached his hole in a quick, sharp stab.

Brian used his tongue to massage Justin's opening, pressing in, sucking, rubbing across the tiny, quivering hole. He kissed him there—hard, intense kisses—gently nipping and teasing with his teeth, then licking to soothe, working across the flesh until it was soaked and open, ready to be worshiped by Brian's dripping cock.

A small puddle of precum gathered below Justin's navel, and Brian licked it up as he moved to cover the other man's body with his own.

"Mmm," Justin hummed, welcoming the kiss that met his lips and the tongue that slid across his teeth. "Fuck me."

Brian rubbed his mouth up Justin's face, stopping to place a quick, sucking kiss to his cheek, and reached to the bedside table for lube. He popped the cap, squirted a generous amount on his palm, and reached down to coat his dick with the self-heating gel.

"We haven't done this in a while," Justin whispered, wrapping his legs around Brian's waist, mouth curved and smiling.

"What, fucked?" Brian asked, easing inside Justin and leaning down to suck at the warm, salty skin of his smooth neck. "Did you forget this morning?" He groaned, coming to a rest, surrounded by warmth and wetness. "And last night? And yesterday morning? And-"

Justin snorted, breath speeding slightly and slick sweat breaking out on his upper lip. "I mean _this_. An entire evening of nothing..." He gasped. "...but sex."

Brian captured pink lips in his own, licked every surface of Justin's mouth and sucked on his tongue like his life depended on it. Depended on that soft, warm, wet, achingly talented muscle that drove him fucking crazy. Depended on the hotness of his breath, the taste of his spit, the way their noses squished painfully together...

When Brian pulled away, he froze, leaning back and watching Justin's face—the way his lips parted and then closed, the way his eyelids fluttered, how he opened his eyes and stared back, all crystal blue meeting warm, hazel-brown. Brian smiled and thrust gently, slowly, watching every change in Justin's facial expression.

"We've been busy," he whispered, leaning down for another kiss, pressing in and sighing.

Justin closed his eyes and nodded, darting his pink tongue out to lick across his own lips. "Fucking...life," he laughed, pushing his nose against Brian's cheek and kissing the corner of his mouth.

"Fucking...kid," Brian snorted back, referring to Gus and his antics. Always up to something.

"Fucking...gallery."

"Fucking...Kinnetik."

Justin grinned, pressing his hands against Brian's chest to still his movements. He bumped the other man's nose with his own and blinked twice, nice and slow.

Brian stared at him, breathing Justin's breath, feeling the warmth of an exhale flow straight into his own nose and into his lungs. He kissed the man's chin, then his lips, then his forehead, and whispered, "Fucking...love you."

"Fucking...love you, too." Justin didn't miss a beat. He smiled, slightly smug, and dug his fingers into Brian's shoulders, massaging his muscles. " _Mmm_ , we're so not gonna be able to get this in a few months."

Brian began to move again, thrusting slowly, shallowly, and pecked Justin's sweaty forehead. "Babies sleep, right?"

"For like, three hours at a time."

"Well, every time he sleeps, we fuck."

Justin laughed, pressing his head back into the pillow and looking up at Brian in the dim light of the moon. He watched the small smile tugging at the other man's lips and grinned when those lips met his, then a tongue slipped out, and then Justin was sucking Brian's mouth—wide, open mouth, head tilted sideways to reach every surface—and Brian was moving in him a little faster, picking up speed, grasping at his hair and sucking right back.

They eventually came like that—wrapped up together, pressing inside and out, mouths open, tongues searching, and noses puffing out quick laughs because it was fun, it felt good, and they loved each other.

*****

Brian tugged out a cigarette, twisting onto his back and grabbing a corner of the duvet to pull over the lower half of his body.

"Gimme," Justin murmured, taking the cigarette from Brian's fingers and shoving it between his lips. He stretched over to snatch a stray lighter from the bedside table and lit up, puffing away and smiling as he blew a stream of smoke out the O of his lips.

"Thought you were quitting," Brian noted, grabbing another cigarette and taking the lighter from Justin.

"I said I'd quit when the baby comes. You're supposed to be quitting, too."

"I never agreed to that."

Justin sighed, taking a long drag. "I heard on TV that you're supposed to give up your bad habits when you first find out you're expecting." He shrugged. "Probably so you can spend nine months failing and _maybe_ succeed after the baby arrives."

"Have you been watching stupid baby shows?"

"It was on _The Today Show_ or _The Early Show_ or something. One of those."

"Hm."

"But it was mostly talking about swearing and that kind of thing."

Brian laughed through his nose, imagining. "Watch. The kid's first word'll be 'fuck.'"

"Yeah, you're probably right." Justin kissed Brian's shoulder. "Stop calling him 'the kid.'"

"I wouldn't have to call him that if he had a name."

"We need to hurry up with that. I still want to paint his name on the wall by the crib."

"We need to actually buy a fucking crib."

"I hate furniture. That's your thing. Go for it."

"Like I was actually going to let you pick out furniture." Brian snorted, bumping Justin's naked hip with his own under the covers.

"Oh yeah," the other man responded with an eye roll. "I forgot you were such an asshole."

"How can you forget _that_?"

Justin chuckled. "Haven't a clue."

"We're going shopping tomorrow."

"Mm, no, we're keeping Zee tomorrow."

Brian palmed his forehead and groaned. "Fuck that."

"Soooorry."

"I'll go shopping. You keep him."

"We'll go shopping Sunday.” Justin took a hard drag, closing his eyes as the smoke consumed him. “I've got shit to buy, too."

"How the hell'd we end up with this gig?"

"Daph and J are both working tomorrow."

Brian scoffed. "Great."

"It'll be good practice."

"I know how to take care of a kid, thanks. That sixteen-year-old hormone that's somehow always around? Yeah, he's mine."

Justin reached over to tap off the cigarette ash. "And _I_ was always the one keeping him, without recognition, while you went out to get your rocks off. Maybe I should go shopping and leave _you_ with Zee."

"No way in hell is that happening."

Justin smirked, scooting closer and laying his head on Brian's pillow. He took a quick drag off the end of his cigarette and smiled flirtatiously, smoke erupting from between his teeth. "Y'know…” He began, walking two fingers across Brian’s chest. “I think the rule about us having sex every time the baby's asleep applies with Zee, too."

"Hmmm." Brian laughed quietly, twisting onto his side and pressing a leg between Justin's. "Let's hope he takes a lot of naps."

"I think it's a pretty safe bet he does."

Brian kissed Justin's jaw—quick, ghosts of kisses—and worked his way down to the warmth of his neck. "Good."

"Yeah," Justin breathed, running the fingers of one hand through the back of Brian's hair, still pinching the cigarette with the others. "Good."

*****

"So you've got his car seat, diaper bag, bottles, formula, toys... What am I forgetting?" Daphne asked the next morning, tying her wildly curly hair back into a ponytail. "Probably tons of shit. Just call me on my cell if you need anything."

"Will do," Justin said with a smile, unfastening Zee from his baby seat. "He'll be fine."

"I know, I know. Tell Brian not to hate me too much."

"He'll get over it."

"You sure you're cool with this?" Daph grabbed her purse and slung it over her shoulder before moving over to where Justin stood, pulling Zee into his arms. She kissed her son on the cheek. "If you and Brian had other things to do, my mom can always-"

" _Daph_. Shut up. Go."

"Okay, okay, I'm going. Sorry."

"Say 'bye' to Mommy," Justin whispered into the baby's ear, picking up his hand and shaking it gently in a waving motion.

"Bye, Zee." Daphne kissed him once more, this time on the nose, before backing away. "Later, Justin. Thank you!"

"Not a problem.”

The woman slipped out the front door, jangling her keys in the pockets of her scrubs, but whipped around at the last minute, barging back in and rubbing the dark circles under her eyes with a worried fist.

“For real, Justin,” she said, voice high-pitched with amusement. “I’m going. Promise.” She kissed her son once more on the head, before snatching his diaper bag off the kitchen counter. “Pacifier?” Daphne whispered to herself, digging around in the bag until everything that was once all neatly folded had transformed into nothing but a huge pile of twisted shirtsleeves, blankets and diapers. “I have no idea where the fuck it is. Maybe it’s in the car. I’ll go look-”

“Daa-aaph,” Justin sing-songed, pointing to the red and yellow paci in Zee’s little mouth.

Daphne closed her eyes momentarily, shook her head in disbelief, and sighed. “I’m such a loser. Bye, Justin.”

And this time she actually left, nerves all a-jumble but head straight, lips set in the straight line of, “Shoot Me Now, I’m One of _Those_.”

Back in the house, Justin laughed, bouncing Zee on his hip and looking into his shining black eyes. “Your mother needs Xanax,” he said, smoothing back the baby’s dark hair and giving him a peck of a kiss on the forehead.

“Bah.”

“Hm?”

“Bah-bah-bah-bah-bah.” Drool slid down Zee’s fair chin as he babbled, the pacifier coming dangerously close to bouncing out of his mouth.

“Bah? Does that mean you wanna go wake up Brian?” Justin asked, a devious little smirk on his face. He grabbed a cloth from inside the disheveled diaper bag and dabbed the tiny boy’s chin. “I bet Brian will _looove_ to see you!”

*****

“Leave me _alone_ ,” Brian grumbled like a pissed off teenager, burying his head under his pillow and twisting away from Justin and Zee on the bed.

Justin grinned, enjoying this way too much. “Somebody wants a good morning cuddle…”

“Well, it better not be you. Go away.”

“Say ‘hi,’ Zee!” Justin encouraged, holding the baby up so that he appeared to be standing on the bed. “Say ‘hi’ to Brian.”

Zee bounced a little, tiny navy Keds pressing into the mattress, and murmured something akin to, “Mamma,” but was more like, " _Mmmmmuh_." Justin cuddled him to his chest for a moment before picking him up and setting him right beside the man-shaped lump in the covers.

“Hey, Brian,” Justin warned, pulling off his T-shirt and untying the drawstring on his pants. “I’m gonna go grab a shower, so you’re going to have to get up.”

“Jesus Christ,” came a voice.

“Watch him. _Don’t_ go back to sleep.”

“Take him into the bathroom with you.”

“Get up.”

"No."

Justin sucked at his teeth. "The sooner I take a shower, the sooner I get to play with him, the sooner he gets sleepy..."

Brian groaned, twisting onto his back and finally, reluctantly, pulling the pillow off his face. Zee was staring at him, sucking furiously on his paci, his little black eyes framed by long, dark eyelashes.

“What’re you staring at?” He asked the baby, not coldly, just all grumbly from sleep, before tucking the pillow under his head.

“Bah-bah-bah.”

“What’s that mean?”

“ _Mmmm_ uh.”

“Huh?”

Justin smiled, watching the two of them, and then retreated to the bathroom for his shower.

*****

Zee was an annoyingly sociable baby, Brian decided as he sat up in bed and scooted until his back was against the headboard. Just like his fucking mother and "Uncle Justin," the babble never stopped.

“Bah!”

“Speak English, kid.”

“Buh-buh-buh-buh- _mmm_ buh.”

“Want your pacifier back?” Brian asked, grabbing it from the nightstand and pressing it to the baby’s lips, hoping it would shut him up. But it didn’t—just caused him to drool as he babbled, which made the constant “bah-bahs” sound wet and spitty.

“So, what do I have to do to get you to be quiet?” Brian asked in a purely sweet tone of voice, gently grabbing Zee under the arms and pulling him into his lap. He smoothed back his hair, which always seemed to be sticking up, and ran his finger across a tiny scratch on the little boy's chin.

He still wasn't sure how he felt about babies.

There was something weird about the way they looked at you, like they were thinking these deep, philosophical thoughts, their eyes penetrating your soul. Brian knew it was stupid, but he remembered holding Gus when he was about Zee's age and wondering what the hell he could be thinking about.

And to add to the weirdness was that whole complete and total trust thing. Brian wasn't positive he liked holding something so vulnerable, _a person_ who could break as easily as a doll, who implicitly trusted you to keep him safe, healthy, and happy. Who didn't know any better.

Brian swallowed, watching Zee as he used a sharp-nailed little finger to point at objects of interest around the room. The lamp, Justin's painting hanging above the bed, his son's framed tenth grade photo...

"That's Gus," Brian said, snatching the small silver frame off the bedside table and holding it up for Zee to look at. Then he decided he was being idiotic, because Zee didn't give a shit who that was and probably didn't understand what Brian was even saying in the first place. He placed the picture back on the table and stared at it for a second before turning away, carefully moving the baby off his lap and climbing out of bed.

*****

Brian was in the kitchen with Zee, attempting to feed him a bottle, when Justin sauntered in, hair slicked back and wet, buttoning up a red cardigan.

"You look very sexy," Justin whispered, walking toward the fridge to grab some juice. A little smile touched his lips, and Brian honestly wanted to fuck him right there.

But instead, he shifted Zee in his arms, raised an amused eyebrow, and said, "One might say the same about you."

Justin laughed, twisting the lid on a bottle of Simply Orange and moving over to kiss Brian briefly on the lips. " _Mm_ ," he hummed, pulling away and looking down at Zee, who was sucking away on his bottle of Enfamil. "How's it going?"

"He talks too much."

"Isn't it great?"

Brian snorted, leaning back against the kitchen counter. "What? His babbling or the fact that you're about to take him from me so I can go into Kinnetik for the day?"

"Ah, you wish," Justin laughed, kissing him once more and reaching down to stick a finger in Zee's little fist. After a slight pause, he murmured, "It's weird."

"What?"

"This."

"I think we've already decided that it is, indeed."

"I know, I know." Justin nodded, taking a sip of orange juice. He gave Brian a little smile before bending to kiss the top of Zee's head. "I'm gonna go set up his toys and stuff in the living room."

"You're such a good mother," Brian cooed, smirking like a child.

Justin raised his middle finger on his way out of the kitchen.

*****

Technically, Gus wasn't supposed to have his car back. He was grounded from it for the next twenty-five years according to Melanie, six weeks according to Lindsay. And see, the problem with Gus having his keys taken away was the fact that he couldn't go anywhere he wanted without asking first. There was no more sneaking out at one, climbing in the car strategically placed on a hill and rolling a good ways down the road before switching on the engine. With the newly installed motion detector chimes that switch on after ten, there was no more leaving the house in secret _at all_ , car or no car.

So needless to say, it really fucking sucked. No dates, no parties, no hanging out, and hardly any sex whatsoever, which was the worst.

But the one good thing was that there was Jenny.

Jenny occasionally needed to go places at times when her moms couldn't take her, so Gus would be given the keys with strict instructions to take his sister, stay with his sister, and return with his sister.

Many a day since his grounding had he spent car rides with a group of Lord of the Rings enthusiasts, enduring anime soundtracks and Hot Topic visits in which Jenny and her friends bought T-shirts advertising various Tim Burton films. At times, driving under conditions was worse than not driving at all.

But then there were always the times when Jenny would need to go to CVS to buy index cards for school, and Gus would take her to the CVS in Boresville, PA and make a pit stop by his dad's house. Or briefly to Kaylie's house for a quick make out session while Jenny sat in the car speaking Elvish to her clarinet-playing boyfriend and sorting InuYasha cards.

This time, Gus was supposed to be taking Jenny to the mall for a recital dress, but he'd decided before jamming the key in the ignition that he was taking a detour through the countryside to bum a credit card.

"Your dad annoys me," Jenny grumbled, adjusting her necklace in the visor mirror.

"Well, your mom's a bitch."

The girl narrowed her eyes at herself, checking out her forest green eyeshadow. "Lay off. She's your mom, too."

"Whatever." Gus shrugged, reaching for the can of Red Bull in the cup holder and chugging down a few inches. "She hates me."

"Does not."

"Does too. She thinks I'm a rebellious asshole like Dad."

"That's because you _are_ a rebellious asshole like your dad."

“Am not!” Gus shook his head, making a sharp left turn while, at the same time, adjusting the volume of the radio. “I’m just…misunderstood.”

“You like causing trouble for attention, you won’t listen to _anything_ Mom and Mamma say, and you just crashed the family computer with spyware from all that gross porn you watch. I lost _three years_ worth of Sims.”

Gus sighed and shot his sister a dirty look. “Like you don’t do anything you’re not supposed to do. You just don’t get caught because you’re sweet, innocent little Jenny Rebecca. Give me a break.”

“At least I don’t have sex with whores.”

“Kaylie _is not_ a whore. And duh, of course you don’t. You’re not having sex at all. Who’d fuck _you_?”

“I’m only thirteen.”

“You’re only thirteen and your boyfriend looks like Augustus Gloop.”

“Asshole.” Jenny slapped the visor mirror closed and kicked her purple Doc Martens against the floorboard. “He’s really sweet.”

“He plays clarinet.”

“So?”

Gus laughed mirthlessly, rubbing the corner of his left eye. “The fact that you don’t have a problem with that says everything.”

“I’m not like you.”

“No fucking duh.”

Jenny bit her bottom lip and breathed deeply through her nostrils. “I’m smart. When I graduate high school, I’m going to NYU to study literature. You’ll be in Pittsburgh flipping burgers.”

“Shut up, fat-ass.” Gus rolled his eyes, turning onto the road leading to the manor. “At least I have a life. Your stupid Sims have better times than you do.”

“I hate you.”

“Hate you right back.”

They traveled the rest of the way in silence, Jenny with her arms crossed over her chest and Gus with a self-satisfied smirk on his face.

*****

At around ten o'clock, a desperate, annoying boom began sounding from the front door, and Brian rubbed his temples, eyes closed, begging for it to fucking stop.

" _What_?" He asked harshly, jerking the door open to find--surprise, surprise--his sixteen-year-old son, who was dressed in cutoffs and a gray vest that came down to mid-thigh. Jesus Christ.

"Hey!" Gus said cheerily, pointing at his father with his index finger and thumb, like the sign for a gun.

Brian was not amused. "Do you ever stay at home?" He asked, moving out of the way to allow his son entrance. He followed the kid into the kitchen and leaned against the counter as Gus began to raid the fridge.

"No. Do you?"

Brian shrugged. "Fair enough."

"Jenny's in the car 'cause she's too bitchy to get out. I'm supposed to be taking her to buy a dress for her geek recital." Gus rolled his eyes, pulling a jug of milk from the refrigerator and then moved to the cereal cabinet to grab the box of Frosted Flakes.

"She's in the _car_?"

"She didn't want to come here."

Brian sighed, jerking open the dishwasher to find clean bowls for him and Gus. "Go get your fucking sister."

"I don't want to deal with her, and trust me, you don't either."

"She can hang out with Justin. He's got Daphne's kid."

Gus's eyes went wide and a huge grin broke out across his face. " _Baby_?"

"God, you're such a softy." Brian motioned to his right, toward the other side of the house. "They're in the living room."

"I'm _not_ a softy."

"You just turned into a puddle at the mention of a small child."

"I like kids." Gus shrugged. "Sue me."

Brian rolled his eyes and began to prepare both bowls of cereal. "Go. Get the drama queen."

"Do I have to?"

One look from his father told Gus that he did. The kid groaned, running his hands over his face, and left to go get Jenny.

When he returned almost ten minutes later with the short, long-haired girl with thickening hips and peacock feather earrings, Justin was bouncing around in the foyer, trying to shush Zee, who kept spitting out his pacifier and fussing.

"Hey, Justin!" Gus greeted happily, walking quickly over to the man and moving his face in close to Zee's. "Hi, baby!"

"He's so cute," Jenny murmured, waving at both Justin and the little boy, her eyes brighter but still narrow with annoyance.

Justin smiled, shifting Zee on his hip and pecking his forehead. "I haven't seen you in a while, Jenny."

"That's probably a good thing," Gus said with an exaggerated eye roll. "She's as bitchy as ever."

" _Shut up_ , you ass," Jenny hollered, balling up her fist and punching her brother in the back. "Gus is still a great big prick."

"Following in his father's footsteps, I see," Justin laughed, handing Zee over to Gus while giving him a teasing look.

" _Ha ha_. Very funny."

Jenny smirked. "That's what Mamma says."

"Yeah, well Melanie's a bitch," Gus grumbled, kicking his sister's ankle. "Thought that was already established."

Justin's eyes widened. "Why are you calling her 'Melanie?'"

"Because she's not my mother."

"He calls her that all the time." Jenny Rebecca tucked her hair behind her ears with both hands and leaned back against the wall. "He's so annoying and he drives everybody crazy."

"Shut up, cuntbreath."

"It's true."

Justin rubbed his hands across his sleepy eyes and yawned. "Cut it out, you guys."

Jenny shrugged, crossing her arms over her chest--which was rather large for that of a thirteen-year-old--and murmuring, "Not my fault. Gus started it."

"Be nice." Justin stuck his tongue in his cheek and watched Gus as he sat down on the third staircase step and held Zee in his lap. He looked exactly like Brian, then, with his hair falling in his face and his tight, I'm-uncomfortable-but-trying-not-to-show-it expression. Poor kid. Justin sighed. He always found himself feeling incredibly sorry for Gus, even though over half the shit the teenager had to deal with was brought upon by himself.

Jenny wandered off into the living room, kicking her boots against the floor--which Brian would kill her for if he knew--and Justin took a seat on the step beside Gus and Zee.

"Hey," he said quietly, bumping the kid with his shoulder.

Gus brushed Zee's hair back and smiled faintly at no one in particular. "Hey."

"Does that piss you off?"

"What?"

"Being compared to your dad."

The kid sucked his lips into his mouth, making Justin want to take a fucking _picture_  it looked so much like Brian, and then shrugged. "Sometimes."

Justin nodded. "Well, sorry for doing that just then."

"Whatever."

"But you _are_ like him, you know. Your dad's amazing."

Gus smiled a little and shifted Zee in his lap until the baby was leaning back against Gus's chest, sucking away sleepily on his pacifier.

Justin leaned in and kissed the teenager's temple because he loved him, plain and simple. "And," he said, changing the subject, "you're great with kids."

Gus shrugged and nodded. "They're fun."

"You up for a professional babysitting job come September?"

"Totally. I have to teach my brother to be as awesome as me, after all."

Justin smiled at "brother" and reached over to hold little Zee's tiny hand. "It's going to be crazy."

"What is?"

"Having one of these."

Gus nodded, moving Zee until he was cradled in his arms, his head resting in the crook of Gus's elbow. "Yeah, but it'll be cool, though. You'll be a good dad, Justin."

Justin bit his bottom lip, trying not to grin too much, and crossed his arms over his chest. "Hope so."

"Plus, look how many freakin' people you have to help you. This whole massive family is around, already waiting for your kid to get here."

"God help him," Justin laughed, stretching out his legs with a happy sigh.

"And with the influence of both me and Dad, he's bound to be pretty fucking spectacular."

Yep. Just like Brian. Justin stuck out his tongue.

Almost as if on cue, Brian walked into the foyer from the kitchen, a newspaper tucked under his arm, drinking down a glass of guava juice. "You know, I'm not exactly deaf," he said with a cheeky smile, moving over to where Gus and Justin were and leaning against the stair rail. "And Gus, I'm fairly certain your cereal is now so fucking soggy you'll have to drink it with a straw."

"Shit. Forgot." Gus looked over at Justin, who held out his arms to accept the sleeping Zee. He handed over the baby, kissing his forehead as he did so, and stood, stretching his back and rolling his shoulders.

"Where's your sister?" Brian asked, draining the remainder of his glass and handing it to Gus to take with him into the kitchen.

"Elephino."

"You're such a dork."

Justin laughed and pointed into the living room. "In there, I think." He gave Brian a warning glance. "Say something mean and I'll kick your ass."

"Wow. I am so fucking terrified." Brian rolled his eyes before making his way through the rest of the foyer into the living room.

Jenny Rebecca was in the far corner of the large room, curled up on the couch and watching one of those stupid teen shows on ABC Family. Her boots were kicked off, socks stuffed down in them, and the sleeves of her concert band T-shirt were rolled up to the tops of her shoulders.

"Hey," Brian said, walking by her and tapping the back of her head twice. He took a seat in the recliner with the paper and began to unfold it.

"Why are you in here?"

Brian raised an eyebrow. "Because it's my fucking house."

Jenny sighed in annoyance and turned up the volume on the TV. "Well, go somewhere else. I'm trying to watch this."

"You know, you could _try_ not being a little brat."

"You could try not being annoying."

Brian dropped the newspaper in his lap and propped his feet up on the coffee table. "Deal with it."

And so was the relationship between Brian Kinney and his best friend's daughter.

"How's ole Davie?" Brian asked, smirking, referring to Jenny's boyfriend.

"Shut up."

"Still playing the oboe?"

"Clarinet."

"Even cooler."

Jenny tossed the remote control onto the coffee table by Brian's feet, clearly pissed.

"I'm only joking," Brian grumbled slowly, rolling his eyes and looking over at the girl. "You're both Mikey _and_ Melanie's kid. It's a given."

"You're an asshole."

"And clearly, you take after your mother."

"Go to Hell."

Brian sunk down in his chair and laughed hysterically.

*****

Japanese was ordered for lunch, and somehow everyone ended up actually eating together at the dining room table. Zee sat in his carrier, chewing on a rubber teething ring.

"Dad," Gus said at one point, dipping his teriyaki chicken in shrimp sauce. "I need help getting my keys back permanently."

Brian pinched the skin between his eyes and sighed. "Why don't you help _yourself_ by not doing stupid shit?"

"Because I get grounded for the dumb-fuckiest reasons ever."

Jenny rolled her eyes. "He's grounded from the road now because he snuck out at night to go screw his girlfriend and got locked out of the house."

"Because _you_ locked my window and I couldn't get back in."

The girl giggled into her napkin.

"And plus," Gus continued, talking with his mouth full, "I wasn't doing anything bad that night. Me and Kaylie didn't even fuck, thank you. We went to the midnight showing of the new Spiderman movie."

"Kaylie?" Justin asked, taking a sip of his beer.

"Kaylie Olson. She's a cheerleader--super hot." Gus turned to his father. "So can you help me out, here? I need my freakin' car for my own personal uses, _not_ for driving Jenny around."

Brian simply stared at his son.

" _Please_?"

"Look. If you're going to sneak out, make sure you don't get caught. If you get caught, it's your own fault."

Gus groaned. "Call Mom, tell her how imperative it is for a young man to have his vehicle, and get my sentence reduced."

"Tempting, but no." Brian stole some of Justin's steak, earning him a slap on the arm. "Why don't _you_ tell your mommies how _imperative_ it is for a so-called 'young man' to have his vehicle? The cause is apparently important to you."

"You make me wanna cry, Dad."

"Good."

*****

Gus and Jenny left after lunch, with no credit card but a hundred dollars each in cash, and that was when Zee decided to take a massive dump in his diaper and Justin handed him to Brian with the words, "Have at it."

"No fucking way," Brian said, attempting to hand the baby back. "He smells like death."

"I've changed his diaper twice already. Your turn."

"Oh, and you conveniently waited until he shat to declare it my turn?"

Justin nodded, grabbing Zee's bag from the living room floor and pulling out a diaper changing mat, wipes, and a diaper. He dropped them onto the couch and smiled at Brian innocently. "Gotta practice, practice, practice."

"If he pisses in my face, you're taking over."

Justin laughed, spreading out the mat on a couch cushion. "Deal."

While Brian was begrudgingly changing Zee's diaper, which he actually wasn't bad at, Justin was in the kitchen, making him another bottle.

"Don't piss on me, kid," Brian warned in a gentle voice, pulling a few wet wipes from the box. Zee just blinked at him and kicked his chubby little legs, happy to be free of his overalls, and Brian had to smile because he really was fucking cute.

He kind of wondered for a moment what Justin's baby was going to look like. Probably like a little pink grub worm at first, all bald and tiny. Emily's hair was auburn brown and her eyes were green, so there was a chance he wouldn't be blond or blue-eyed, but Brian kind of hoped he would be.

Justin came back as Brian was attempting to work the straps on Zee's overalls. He walked over, bottle in hand, and made a kissy face at the baby. "Did you pee on Brian?"

"No," Brian said, snapping the straps in place and picking up Zee, pulling him into his arms. "He did not, in fact, piss in my face."

Justin snapped his fingers in a "Darn!" expression, and shook his head at the baby. "C'mon, Zee. I thought we had a plan."

"And _we_ just negotiated." Brian playfully kicked Justin's calve with his bare foot. "Watch out next time you're changing his diaper."

Justin leaned down and kissed Brian right on the lips, before dropping onto the couch beside him and Zee. He handed the bottle over and smiled. "Remember when Gus used to pee every fucking time he was getting his diaper changed?"

Brian laughed. "I'm pretty sure that was some type of psychological indication as to how he would be when he got older. Christ."

"Gus is great." Justin leaned against Brian's side, resting his head on his shoulder. "He's kind of...y'know...but he's a really good kid."

"Yeah. He is." Brian shook Zee's bottle and then began to feed him. The baby sucked away greedily, breathing hard out his nose.

"You know what he said today?" Justin asked, reaching down to smooth Zee's hair. "He called my son his brother."

Brian didn't say anything, but Justin could see him crossing and uncrossing his ankles in a bit of a nervous manner.

"I love that."

Brian nodded a little, pulling the bottle out of Zee's mouth when he appeared to be drinking too fast, and then putting it back in once he'd caught his breath. "I'd say that it wouldn't be an entirely inaccurate title."

Justin grinned, so happy. "No. It wouldn't." He snorted. "And what's _your_ title gonna be? We haven't even discussed that."

The other man shrugged.

Justin scrunched up his face, thinking. "Dadda? Or does that sound too much like 'daddy?' It's kind of like Mel and Lindsay's 'mommy' and 'mamma' thing. Pop?" He laughed.

"'Pop' makes me sound fucking old."

"Yeah." Justin shrugged. "We can look up some names on the internet later."

"We can always be 'mommy' and 'daddy,'" Brian said, pushing his tongue into his cheek.

Justin pinched his arm, laughing quietly into the sleeve of his shirt. "Only if you're 'mommy.'"

"No thanks. I'd rather keep my dick."

"You're going to need it in a few minutes," Justin whispered, motioning to Zee, whose eyes were beginning to close as he ate.

Brian leaned over, kissing Justin once, twice, before pressing their foreheads together. "I'm incredibly disappointed in the amount of sex opportunities we've had today."

Justin nodded, laughing through his nose. "I thought of suggesting we do it on the kitchen table, but I figured it would fuck with Gus and Jenny's minds too much."

"Mm. I can almost say with confidence that it would somehow not traumatize, nor surprise, Gus."

"Probably not, actually."

Brian pulled back and adjusted Zee in his arms. "The kid better not get any girls pregnant. That's all I'm saying."

"Hopefully he's playing safe at all times."

"If he's not, I'll kill him."

Justin smirked. "I'm waiting for the 'I Think I Have Gonorrhea' phone call."

"Christ."

"Mmhm."

Brian sighed and pulled the bottle from Zee's mouth, checking to see how much he'd eaten. "Gus is a romantic, though."

Justin nodded. "I think he's pretty tenderhearted."

"When he wants to be."

"Yeah."

They sat in silence for a while, Justin leaning against Brian and Brian cradling a sleeping Zee in his arms.

"This will be us next March," Justin said suddenly, looking down at the little boy. "When the baby's six months."

Brian sighed, studying Zee himself. "Fuck," he whispered.

"Exactly." Justin leaned over and kissed the baby's forehead. "But I can't wait to meet him, y'know?"

"Yeah." Brian nodded. "I know."

Justin pulled back to get a good look at Brian's face and smiled so hard his cheeks hurt.

Brian smiled, too.


	4. Thirty-Six Weeks

"So what are we naming this baby?" Justin asked one August evening as he helped Brian slide the new crib up against the wall. The furniture had been delivered that morning, and the two men had ended up spending the majority of the day furnishing and decorating, which, needless to say, had turned out to be not the most simple of tasks.

Brian pushed his tongue against the inside of his cheek. “James Dean Taylor-Kinney.”

“How about no?” Justin smirked, placing his hands on his hips and taking a step back to check out the position of the crib against the wall. It needed to be moved a few inches to the left so that the solid white tree Justin had painted on the gray-blue walls arched across the bed. He motioned for Brian to slide the crib some. “He’s due in a matter of weeks and I still need to paint his name.” Justin waved toward the space above the crib.

Brian slid the crib a few inches across the floor. “What names do you even like?”

“I have no idea.”

“Such progress you’ve made since January.”

“I’m rather proud, I’ll admit.”

“As you should be.” Brian rolled his eyes before moving over to the changing table, which still needed to be placed.

Justin bit down on the inside of his right cheek and scanned the room. “There are names I’m not completely adverse to, but I mean, it’s a fucking _name_. It’s what he’ll be called for the rest of his life.”

“Just _don’t_ name him after an inanimate object. Or a letter.”

“’Zee’ is a great name.”

Brian snorted. “If you’re an extra terrestrial.” He looked from the changing table to the wall by the window, contemplating.

“Well, don’t worry,” Justin said, motioning toward the area Brian was studying and giving a little shrug. “None of the names I’m not completely adverse to are particularly odd.”

“Good to know.”

“But I _do_ want him to have a cool middle name. Unlike..." Justin stared pointedly at Brian.

“Fuck you.”

“I adore the fact that you have such a horrible middle name. It makes me think you may actually be mortal, after all.”

“God, you’re hilarious.” Brian moved over to one side of the changing table and began to lift, signaling for Justin to do the same with the other side. They walked the table across the room and sat it down three feet to the right of the window.

“Gus’s middle name is pretty bad, too. ‘Abraham?’” Justin cringed.

“It fits him so well,” Brian said with a laugh, stepping back to study the position of the changing table.

“Almost as much as ‘Aloysius’* fits you.”

“Fuck off.”

Justin chuckled, moving over to wrap his arms around Brian’s waist. “Brian Aloysius Kinney. You really need to put that on your business cards.”

“And then slice my wrists with said cards?”

“Mm,” Justin hummed, stretching up on his tiptoes and pressing a kiss to Brian’s upper lip. “I’d design them for you.”

“How generous.”

“Generosity is generally what I’m known for.”

Brian huffed a laugh, leaning down to peck Justin’s nose. “I thought you were generally known for your cock sucking skills.”

“Ah, yeah.” Justin nodded. “That too. I’m a generous sucker of the cock.”

“I agree.”

“Good.” Justin smiled, gently pulling away and walking over toward the box of pale blue bedding printed with solid white owl shapes.

“ _Christ_ , not the owls,” Brian grumbled, making a cross with his index fingers.

Justin rolled his eyes. “Brian, this is an infant’s room. Not a 46-year-old’s bachelor pad.”

“You have no idea how much better the solid sheets would look.”

“The owls match the theme. It’s going to look great.”

Brian shook his head. “I hate prints.”

“I promise, they won’t hurt you.” Justin walked over and patted the other man on the shoulder, earning him a “You’re So Very Fucking Funny” face and a pinch on the ass.

Eventually, after much mumbling and grumbling from Brian, the two men got the crib all fixed up, complete with a quilted owl stuffed animal Debbie had sewn and a mobile that played lullaby versions of Beatles songs.

“What do you think?” Justin asked, stepping into the center of the room and scanning the area. They still had to purchase a chair of some sort, preferably a soft one that rocked, and they also needed a rug, but for the most part, the baby’s room was complete, save for the blank space on the wall where his name would go.

“Disregarding the owls?”

“Disregarding the owls, which you’re gonna have to get over.”

Brian sighed exaggeratedly and moved over to where Justin was standing. “It’s decent.”

“It’s great.”

“The furniture is excellent, the wall color’s fine, the tree painting is good, and the owls are…”

“Disregarded.”

Brian rolled his eyes. “Whatever.”

Justin chuckled and leaned into Brian’s side, wrapping one arm around his waist. “If you were decorating alone, the baby would have an entirely imported Italian bedroom, wouldn’t he?”

“Likely, but I might still spring for the mobile.”

“I take it you’ll be schooling him on good music the moment he leaves the womb?” Justin smiled, looking up at the other man.

Brian shrugged. “I have no other choice. Your particular tastes are often questionable at best, and we can’t have him growing up in an environment where Top 40 bimbos are so much as acknowledged.” He sighed. “Plus, there’s no telling what types of sounds Emily’s been subjecting him to.”

“Hetero sex.” Justin made a face. “She has a boyfriend.”

“Well, that’s admittedly better than all the lezzie sex Gus had to hear. No fucking wonder his cock is magnetically attracted to pussy.”

Justin laughed, getting up on his toes to kiss Brian behind the ear. “I think that’s just Mother Nature’s way of pissing you off.”

“Yeah, well, what else is new?”

“Mm.” Justin trailed down from Brian’s ear to his mouth, where he proceeded to nibble on his bottom lip. “So are you still meeting the guys at Woody’s tonight?” He asked quietly between kisses, bringing his hands up to stroke the sides of Brian’s face.

“Yep. And you have a date with your mommy.”

“Ugh,” Justin groaned, pulling away and dropping back down off his tiptoes. “I don’t even wanna know what all this is about. I swear to God, if she’s getting married, I will be _so_ pissed.”

“Is she even seeing anyone?”

“Who knows?” Justin shrugged. “After her wild trip to Mexico with that guy—What was his name? André?—last summer, nothing, not even a spontaneous marriage to some man she just met, would surprise me.”

“For a sixty-something year-old woman, your mom’s hot,” Brian noted, crossing his arms over his chest and watching the other man’s face with an amused expression.

Justin nodded. “But she’s still sixty-two. _You_ didn’t see the pictures of her trip. They rival _our_ pictures from the Bahamas two years ago.”

“Oh, let Mother Taylor live a little while she can,” Brian said with a smirk, placing his hands on Justin’s shoulders and giving them a condescending squeeze. “And besides, you don’t _know_ that she’s calling this meeting to announce elopement or her engagement to a hot Dominican.”

Justin sighed and replied, “No, but why else would she specifically ask that I come alone?”

“I’m too hot, I distract her,” Brian said, moving his hands up to the sides of Justin’s face and leaning in to peck his nose.

Justin rolled his eyes but tilted his face up anyway, grabbing hold of the front of Brian’s shirt and pulling him in for a kiss.

******

When Brian arrived at Woody’s that night, Michael and Ben were already there, sitting together at a table and holding hands or playing footsie or doing something equally as annoyingly stupid.

“Okay, okay, cut it out,” Brian grumbled, pulling up a chair and taking a seat. “I’ll puke in my beer.”

Michael smirked, leaning across the table to accept his kiss hello. “Where’s Justin?” He asked, looking around the bar with squinty eyes because he really needed to give it up and get glasses already.

“Dinner with Jennifer. She’s moving to Aruba with a nineteen-year-old she met on the internet.”

“ _What_?” Ben and Michael exclaimed in unison, eyes practically bugging out of their heads.

Brian shrugged. “Or maybe she’s not. I don’t remember.”

“Asshole,” Michael laughed, eyes suddenly leaving Brian’s face and meeting those of Ted, who was cautiously walking up to the table with a bottle of Perrier in his hand and a bored expression on his face.

“Why, Theodore,” Brian said, kicking out a nearby chair for the man to sit down. “I would’ve thought on a night like this you’d be at the rehab center with your wife, brainwashing crystal queens and sharing those inspirational stories that always bring a tear to my eye.”

“Hello to you, too, Bri,” Ted replied, taking a seat and setting his Perrier down on the table in front of him. “Blake is sick with a cold, and I missed the meeting because I was at Kinnetik until half an hour ago, _on the weekend_ , drawing up next month’s budget.”

Brian scoffed. “I know what you do at Kinnetik when no one else is there, Ted. The security tape from last week shows you utilizing the old bathhouse’s fabulous acoustics for your somewhat worrisome rendition of ‘Celeste Aida.’”

Michael and Ben burst into laughter before turning to Ted out of sheer sympathy.

“He’s lying,” Michael said, taking a sip of his Pepsi. “Aren’t you?”

Brian shook his head, twirling his glass of Guinness until the foam almost peaked over the edge. “Sadly, I wish I were.” He smiled cheekily over at Ted. “Right, Theodore?”

“Oh, fuck off.”

Brian laughed, reaching over to pat Ted on the back.

“And what were _you_ doing today?” Ben asked, grinning at Brian in a completely knowing fashion. “It seems to me someone said _something_ about decorating a nursery…”

Brian stuck out his tongue like a child, bringing both elbows up onto the table and resting his chin in his hands. “Justin, the poor lad, wouldn’t know how to assemble a changing table if his life depended on it.”

Michael snickered quietly, shooting Ben the occasional side-glance. “So how’s it look?”

Brian shrugged. “Like the room of an infant with a particular affinity for owls, I suppose.”

“Oh, how _sweeeet_.”

“Shut up. I hate the owl print.” Brian took a long, guzzling drink of his beer. “And _Jesus Christ_ , I can’t believe I’m discussing this in Woody’s. Or at all.”

Ben smiled at Brian, that “I’ve Got You All Figured Out” look in his eyes. “Is there any more news on the baby? Picked out a name?”

“Try as I might, I can’t seem to get Justin to agree to ‘James Dean.’”

“I wonder why,” Michael snorted, grabbing Brian’s thumb and giving it a quick, playful tug.

“ _I_ do wonder. I swear to Christ. No ‘James’ _or_ ‘Dean,’ and owls. What the fuck?”

“You need a puppy,” Ted said in all seriousness, twisting the cap of his drink.

“I’d rather die a slow, painful death.”

Michael chuckled. “What’re you going to do when Justin’s baby grows into this cute little boy with blond hair and puppy dog eyes, and he comes to you, climbs up in your lap, and asks for a dog?”

“Easy,” Brian said, never missing a beat. “I’ll tell him he’s too young and get him a goldfish instead. Those things live for approximately four days when a kid’s feeding them.”

“You have _no idea_ what it’s like to live with a kid full time, Brian,” Ben said, shaking his head and smiling. “Even with Hunter… He was _sixteen_ and still somehow had Michael and I wrapped around his little finger when his birthday or any major holiday rolled around.”

“When he came back from college one weekend at _nineteen_ ,” Michael added, “he got me to spend _three hundred dollars_ on a pair of shoes and some jeans. Resistance is futile.”

Brian rolled his eyes. “That’s because neither of you know how to say ‘no.’”

“And in about four years, you will understand exactly how that word was somewhat removed from our vocabulary.”

“Whatever,” Brian mumbled, taking another sip of his beer and swiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Now, I’m sick of talking about this shit in fucking _Woody’s_. Anybody wanna play pool?” He climbed out of his chair and pointed at Michael. “C’mon.”

*****

Jennifer was already seated at a table in the back of Golden Panda when Justin arrived eight minutes late and with shower-damp hair.

“Sweetie,” she greeted, climbing out of her chair to give her son a hug. She kissed his cheek and told him he smelled good.

“Thanks, Mom,” Justin said in a weird tone of voice, narrowing his eyes a little and taking a seat. “How’re…you doing?”

Jennifer smiled, reaching across the table to touch Justin’s fingers. “I can’t complain,” she said with a small chuckle. “What about you? How’s everything going?”

“Fine.” Justin shrugged. “The furniture came in this morning for the nursery. Brian and I have been decorating and furnishing all day.”

“Oh, _honey_ , I can’t wait to see it.”

“You should come over sometime this week. We still need some sort of chair and a rug, and I’ve still gotta paint the baby’s name on the wall above the crib, but the nursery’s about ninety percent finished. It’s—”

The waitress came by to take their drink orders, then sauntered off with a smile and, “I’ll bring them right out.”

“Thanks,” Justin said, before turning back to his mother to continue their conversation. “The nursery looks really good, I think. The colors are very soothing, and I love the owls, though Brian hates them.”

Jennifer laughed. “What would he prefer?”

“Uh, no animals, period.” Justin rolled his eyes good-naturedly, grabbing a packet of ginger sauce from the little basket in the center of the table and twisting it in his fingers. “Except, of course, for the cow murdered for Italian leather.” He laughed through his nose. “I’m surprised the furniture he bought is actually American. But it’s like, _genuine_ American, handcrafted hardwood. The crib alone was over a thousand dollars and the dresser was a lot more.”

“Well!” Jennifer exclaimed, smiling in such a happy, grandmotherly way. “I’m sure it’s beautiful. My sweet grandson’s a lucky little boy.”

Justin nodded. “Emily had a doctor’s appointment yesterday. The doctor said that he’s about six pounds now.”

“That’s wonderful, sweetheart.” Jennifer gave her son an endearing, teary-eyed look. “If he stays full term, he should be pretty good sized when he’s born.”

“I hope so. Brian and I ordered a shit-ton of clothes off the Internet in size newborn, and that was _before_ Lindsay told me that a lot of newborns wear preemie for the first couple of weeks just because clothes run so big.” He shrugged. “That messes with the clothes we bought for the end of summer, when it’s still really warm.”

“Honey, I wish you two would’ve let me throw a baby shower,” Jennifer said, looking over at the waitress, who had returned with the drinks and a notepad to write down their orders.

After they ordered, Justin told his mother that Debbie’s kitschy party the week before had been more than enough. “And you said you’ll get the car seat and the stroller, and other than that, believe me, we have all we need.” Plus more. Emmett had bought the baby a miniature white boa to go along with an outfit that would’ve made Liberace proud.

“And Molly bought the bathtub and Diaper Genie. She’s bringing them to you tomorrow.”

Justin nodded and smiled reassuringly at Jennifer. “Everything’s great. I mean, there’s still little things like lotion and diaper rash cream, but we’ll get it.”

“I can get that. Here, I’ll write a list…” The woman reached down under the table to grab her purse, where she proceeded to dig around until she found a notepad and pen.

“Mom. _Mom_. It’s fine, I promise. You’ve gotten so much already.”

“Justin, let me spoil my first grandchild.”

Justin rubbed his eyes with the heel of his hand and smiled. “Mom.”

Jennifer ignored him, pulling the cap off her pen and going to work making a list in neat, flowing cursive. “Now, do you need bath and changing supplies in general? Do you have cotton swabs and witch hazel for the umbilical cord? Gas drops?”

Justin sighed.

******

“Michael, I think if you sucked any more, I would be shooting down your throat,” Brian murmured, twirling a pool stick in his hand and shaking his head at his friend.

“You’re _cheating_!”

“Why the hell would I cheat? Why would I _need_ to cheat?”

“I don’t know, but you are,” Michael said, lining up his stick and taking a shot. “Shit.”

“See?”

“Fuck you, Brian.”

Brian smirked, moving up behind Michael and wrapping an arm around his waist. He kissed his cheek. “You know I love you.”

Michael nodded as he rolled his eyes, leaning his head back and resting it on Brian’s shoulder. “Always have, always will.”

Brian pulled away. “Now, watch while I cream your ass.”

As Brian was doing so, Michael walked over to the opposite corner of the pool table and leaned over it, resting his elbows on the green felt. “So are you excited?” He asked. “The baby will be here in a few weeks.”

“I can barely contain my excitement,” Brian answered in monotone, smacking his remaining striped ball flawlessly into the hole.

“There’ll be a crying baby in your house, he’ll go through a thousand diapers a week, he’ll puke all over your designer shirts…” Michael grinned affectionately.

Brian shrugged. “It doesn’t sound that much different than having Gus around me all the time. He’s always whining, shitting, and puking for some reason or another.”

“ _Daddy_ ,” Michael teased, watching as Brian stood tall and gave him a look.

“Dadd _a_.”

“That’s _soooo_ cute.”

“Shut up, Mikey.”

Michael laughed loudly and moved over to give Brian a hug. “You’ll be great,” he murmured into the other man’s ear as they embraced. “That’s one lucky kid.”

Brian closed his eyes for a few seconds longer than a blink and hugged his friend a little tighter.

*****

“So why did you ask that I come alone tonight?” Justin asked his mother once they were halfway through dinner.

Jennifer’s cheeks pinked for a moment, but she simply shrugged and pushed her sweet and sour chicken around in her rice. “I just wanted to see you. It’s been too long since we’ve gotten together, just the two of us.”

Justin wasn’t buying it. He raised his eyebrows in an, “uh huuuh,” fashion, and bit the insides of his cheeks.

“I miss it being just us,” his mother continued, spearing a piece of chicken with her fork and bringing it up to her mouth.

“Mom,” Justin said, voice even. He waited until Jennifer met his eyes before adding, “Tell me whatever it is you have to tell me.”

“What makes you think I have something to tell you?”

The man took a deep breath. “It’s getting more obvious by the second.”

Jennifer classily put her fork down and grabbed her napkin out of her lap, dabbing at the corners of her mouth.

“Mom. Tell me. What is it?”

The woman inhaled slowly, glancing all around the restaurant as she breathed the air back out. “I spoke with your father yesterday.”

Justin’s eyes widened. “What? Why?”

“He called me on my cell phone—Molly had given him the number.” Jennifer licked her lips quickly. “And he was calling to ask for _your_ number.”

The man narrowed his eyes, bringing his elbow up onto the table and resting his chin in his palm. “I don’t want to talk to him,” he said simply, a faraway look in his eyes and an even more distant tone in his voice. He swallowed. “Why would he want my number? I haven’t seen him in…eight years.”

Jennifer reached across the table and grabbed Justin’s free hand. “He didn’t say, and frankly, I didn’t much desire to continue speaking with him, but it’s _possible_ it has something to do with your son. I know Molly’s told him, and she’s told me in private that he’s talked about being in contact.”

“ _Fuck that_ ,” Justin said a little too loudly, sitting up straight and pulling his hand away from his mother absently, dropping it into his lap. “If he wants to make nice with me now that he’s going to be a _biological_ grandfather, he can just get over it.”

The look on Jennifer’s face showed she clearly didn’t know what to say. She simply shrugged a little and closed her eyes for long moments at a time. “Honey, you know I agree with you…”

“He had me _arrested_ , he made my life a living hell, and last time I saw him, we were at Papagano’s and he looked at Brian and I like we were the scum of the earth.” Justin was suddenly fuming, face turning a deep shade of red. “My son is not going to be a part of his life.”

“I know,” Jennifer simply said, nodding her head and watching her son, her beautiful son, with a mother’s eyes. “I just told him I’d tell you he called, and I took down his number just in case.”

“Well, you can keep it.”

Neither party finished their food. The check came, and Justin wanted to pay, but Jennifer said “no” and that was the end of it.

“Are you all right?” Jennifer asked, wrapping her arms around her son once they were in the parking lot of the restaurant.

“I’m fine,” Justin replied, trying to smile. It wasn’t that he was sad, it wasn’t _entirely_ that he was pissed, but it was…something else. He wasn’t sure.

“I love you, and you call me if you need anything.”

Justin nodded.

“Maybe we can make plans to go get the car seat and stroller this week? And I can come back with you to see the nursery?”

“Yeah. I’ll call you.”

“You’re sure you’re okay?” Jennifer asked once more, mouth fixing in a straight line of worry. The man looked a little angry, a little confused.

“Never been better,” Justin said, reaching into his pocket for his keys.

*****

When Brian got home that night, he found Justin stretched out on the living room sofa in the dark, the blue flashing of the television the only light on the entire floor.

“Hey,” he said, picking up Justin’s feet and taking a seat where they once rested before pulling them into his lap.

“Hey,” Justin returned, giving Brian a smile and kicking him a little in greeting. “How was Woody’s?”

“Not entirely tedious. How was your date?”

Justin huffed and shook his head, leaning back harder against the sofa armrest. “My mother will only be content once she’s paid for approximately ninety-eight percent of the baby’s expenses.”

Brian made an amused sound and nodded, taking Justin’s bare foot in his hands and beginning to give it a massage. “And?”

“And my dad’s trying to contact me.”

Brian paused his ministrations and gave Justin a look of, “You’ve Got To Be Kidding Me.”

“Mom says she’s pretty sure it’s about the baby, because apparently my darling sister’s been telling him all this stuff about him, and Dad’s been hinting at wanting to get in contact with me or the baby once he’s born or some shit. I don’t know.” Justin closed his eyes, reaching up to rub at his temples.

“Your fucking father’s an asshole.”

“Yeah. I gathered.”

“So…”

“So I’m not contacting him.” Justin shrugged. “And if I ever _did_ , it would be to tell him that I would never subject my child to him. Not in a million fucking years. Not after what he’s done and what he believes.”

Brian nodded, beginning once more to massage Justin’s feet.

“And my sister’s an _ass_ for talking to him about that.” Justin scoffed. “I mean, I figured she’d at least tell him about the baby, but the fact that she apparently encouraged conversation on the subject of reconciliation makes me want to scream.”

Brian just listened to Justin go on and on about his father and his sister, because after seventeen years of being wrapped up in him, after seventeen years of watching him endure emotional shit people so young shouldn’t have to deal with, he realized that the best way to be there was to not say a word.

“Molly’s coming over tomorrow,” Justin finally said after going on fifteen minutes of talking it out, rubbing the space between his eyes with his middle finger. “She’s bringing the baby tub and Diaper Genie.”

Brian nodded, moving on the couch until his back was up against the armrest opposite Justin. He grabbed the blond’s legs and pulled until they had no choice but to wrap slightly around Brian’s body, Justin’s head on the couch cushion and ass almost in Brian’s lap.

Brian leaned over until he was on top of Justin and dipped his head to capture his mouth in a kiss so excruciatingly soft Justin wanted to cry.

“Mm,” Justin hummed, licking his lips afterward and looking up into the other man’s face in the near-darkness. “What was that for?”

Brian shrugged one shoulder and kissed him again.

*****

“How was Michael?” Justin asked later into Brian’s bare chest, as they lay naked on the couch together, cool with drying sweat. His voice was tired and husky. “And the others?”

“As unfortunate as ever,” Brian replied, running his hand through damp blond hair. “Emmett wasn’t there. Had some dyke wedding reception to oversee.”

“Hmm,” Justin hummed in that low, flat way he always did as a prelude to sleep.

Brian bent his head forward and kissed his forehead.

“Mom’s not getting married, at least,” Justin whispered. “And she’s buying gas drops and witch hazel.”

“What?” Brian snorted, moving his hand from Justin’s hair to his warm, sweaty back. “What the fuck is that?”

“Gas drops for gas, witch hazel for umbilical cords.”

“Good to know.”

“Yeah.” Justin huffed a little, tiredly.

“Hey,” Brian said, making to get up. “Let’s go upstairs.”

“Carry me.”

“No.”

“Please.”

“Get up.” Brian climbed out from under Justin and held out his hand.

“Ugh,” Justin grumbled, grasping the other man’s hand and standing up.

Together, the two of them climbed the stairs, leaving their clothes strewn across the living room floor, and traipsed down the hall to their bedroom where they collapsed on the bed and into each other’s arms.

“Thank you,” Justin whispered in the moments before sleep, twisting in Brian’s arms until his forehead was resting against Brian’s chest.

“For what?”

Justin shrugged. “I don’t know.”

And that was the last thing said before sleep overcame them both.

*****

Molly came over at around four on Sunday with two large boxes stuffed in the back of her Prius. At twenty-four, she was tall, thin, and gorgeous, with strawberry-blond hair down her back and bright red lipstick on her lips. She was wearing a floral sundress and cowboy boots, and her silver hoop earrings glimmered in the summer sunlight.

“Hey!” She greeted, hopping over to Justin and giving him a tight hug. She was smiling when she pulled away. “I haven’t seen you in forever!”

“I know,” Justin replied, giving his sister a half-smile, then giving up and wrapping his arm around her waist. “How’ve you been?”

“Tired. I work a thousand hours a week.” She shrugged. “Today was the only day I could come by…”

“Little Taylor,” Brian murmured, stepping out of the garage and into the driveway, dressed in a black wife beater and unbuttoned jeans. He nodded his head in greeting and started making his way to the car to help with the boxes.

“I almost didn’t fit them in!” Molly exclaimed. She followed Brian to the vehicle and began opening doors. “Don’t know why they put this stuff in such huge boxes. It’s just parts, anyway.”

Justin groaned. “Great. More parts.” He went to grab the Diaper Genie box out of Molly’s back seat.

“I know.” The girl shrugged. “I probably could’ve been a cooler sister and aunt if I’d put everything together before bringing it, but my mechanical skills are severely stunted.”

“No, this is great,” Justin reassured, knocking the car door shut with his hip and following Brian into the house. “Thank you.”

“No problem! Anything for the nameless baby." Molly held the door open while Brian and Justin stuffed themselves through with their boxes, then proceeded to follow them as they walked the boxes into the living room and sat them down on the floor. “I can’t stay long," she said. "My boyfriend’s picking me up from my place at six, so…”

“You want to see the baby’s room first?” Justin asked, shooting Brian a quick side-glance.

The two siblings climbed the stairs and walked down the hall to the last bedroom on the right—the nursery.

Afternoon sunlight streamed in through the window in the center of the far wall, almost causing the gray-blue walls to sparkle. It felt peaceful in there, light, and Justin sighed as he thought about the conversation he was about to have. He thought about it while Molly was ooh-ing and aah-ing and twirling around in the center of the floor so that her dress flared. He thought about it while she stood before the tree painting and smiled, turning to Justin and telling him it was perfect. And he thought about it when he leaned back against the doorframe and asked, “What the hell’s up with Dad?”

Molly froze, turning to her brother with a furrowed brow. “What do you mean?”

“Mom told me about him wanting to contact me.”

The girl rubbed a hand across her face, smearing a bit of her mascara but somehow just making herself look even prettier. She shrugged. “I don’t know anything about it.”

“ _Bullshit_. You gave him Mom’s cell number so he could call her.”

Molly licked her lips and spun a slow circle, peering around the room as if searching for a place to sit down. “Look,” she breathed. “You can’t get mad, okay?”

“It’s a little too late for that.”

“Just…don’t. All right?”

“Tell me.”

“Okay.” Molly exhaled loudly, walking over to sit on the window seat. “He knows about the baby and all, and last week when I was over at his house, he asked if the surrogate had given birth yet. I told him ‘no, but soon,’ and he said…something about maybe wanting to see the baby or…I don’t know.” The girl shrugged, looking everywhere but at Justin’s face.

“And?”

“And I told him to contact you, okay? Just to _ask_ or…catch up or something.”

Justin groaned. “Molly, what the hell?”

“I know, I know.” She rubbed her finger across her lips nervously. “But I wouldn’t give him your number. I told him he’d have to go through Mom.”

“How thoughtful of you.” The man rolled his eyes, crossing his arms across his chest and shaking his head in dissatisfaction. “Dad is _never_ going to be a part of my son’s life. I don’t care if he _is_ the biological grandfather. I refuse to give him the privilege.”

“I totally get it,” Molly said, nodding. “I really do. But, I mean, it’s… _Dad_.”

“He’s Dad to you. To me, he’s the man who practically disowned me for being gay, the man who had me arrested, and the man who thinks the person I love is some creepy predator and that the two of us are in a perverted, unnatural relationship.”

“I know. And I realize I can never fully understand your point of view, but I feel sorry for him, y’know? This is his first grandchild, and—”

Justin laughed mirthlessly. “Yeah, his first grandchild who’s going to be raised by two _disgusting_ queers.”

Molly looked down at her lap, studying the red and yellow floral pattern of her dress, and then glanced back up to meet her brother’s eyes. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m really, really sorry. Please don’t be mad at me.”

Justin watched his sister’s eyes turn back down toward her lap, and he sighed, moving over to the window seat and dropping down beside her. “It’s okay,” he told her, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. “I mean, it’s not _okay_ , definitely not, but…”

“I know,” Molly said, leaning in close.

*****

When Molly left fifteen minutes later, after hugging Justin and telling him she loved him, Brian appeared in the doorway of the nursery where Justin was still sitting on the window seat, legs outstretched and feet crossed in front of him.

“Hey,” he said, knocking on the open door twice.

“Hey.”

Brian moved over to the window seat and sat down with Justin. “The verdict?”

Justin shrugged, fingers itching. He really needed a cigarette. “Molly encouraged Dad to contact me.”

“Is she _completely_ stupid?”

“No. She’s just…naive, I guess. She apparently felt sorry for Dad or something. I don’t know.”

“Sorry that he’s such a fucking narrow-minded asshole?”

Justin sighed, leaning against Brian and closing his eyes as the other man began to stroke his hair. “I hate him,” he whispered.

Brian nodded. “Forget him.”

“I do. But he’s always coming back.”

Brian knew how that was. He licked his lips and pulled Justin close, moving in to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

“Love you,” Justin murmured, burying his head in Brian’s shirt.

Brian leaned backward, until his back was against the window, and touched Justin’s chin to get him to look at him. He watched his eyes, how they flickered in the sunlight filtering in through the window.

"Yeah," he said, before kissing him tenderly on the lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * Brian's middle name, Aloysius, is borrowed from wouldbedorothy's hilarious fic, _[A Is For...](http://wouldbedorothy.livejournal.com/53071.html#cutid1)_


	5. Birth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The HTML was seriously f'ed up in this chapter, and it somehow lost all instances of italics for word emphasis. I skimmed through it, and it doesn't seem noticeable, but if you get to a word that looks like it should be italicized and it's not, that's why.

Justin had known Emily McKay was the one the moment they'd met in the fertility clinic conference room in downtown Pittsburgh. She'd sauntered in, friend by her side, dressed in a cowl neck sweater dress and gray tights with a tiny, silver mp3 player she'd forgotten to remove still clipped to her clothes. She was beautiful, with good hair, perfect teeth, and flawless, peachy skin. And even more was that, once she and Justin got to talking, he discovered that she was also intelligent, funny, and most of all--most importantly--completely and totally understanding.

"I honestly have no desire to raise children," she'd told Justin in answer to his inquiry about emotional attachment, tying her long, auburn hair back into a ponytail and looking him right in the eye. "I've done this before. You don't have to worry about me turning around and wanting to keep the baby."

She'd been so serious about that and so nonchalant about actually carrying a child for nine months that Justin had almost not wanted to believe her even though her track record proved her sincere. He'd been nervous at first, just a little, right after conception. Emily had texted him a plus sign and, "Congratulations, Daddy!" and though Justin had been ecstatic, absolutely bouncing off the walls crazy with happiness, that nagging worry had still been there. That worry that if Emily wanted, she could contest for custody after birth.

But nine months later, as Justin watched her devour a gourmet cheeseburger at Papagano’s and laugh to Brian about how she wished him the best of luck with "the incredibly hyperactive baby" who bounced around so much she could hardly sleep at night, Justin didn't know how he could have ever worried at all. He and Brian had been lucky. So fucking lucky. Emily understood what she was doing, and she was more than willing to do it, no complications, no questions asked.

Justin knew that there had to have been a detachment moment. A moment where she'd looked at herself in the mirror and stopped seeing the baby--her baby--as belonging to her, and started seeing him as belonging to Brian and Justin. Maybe it had been when she'd called to let him know about her latest doctor's appointment and Justin had almost told her the baby's name, but she'd stopped him. Or when she'd emailed Brian on the sixth of September, writing, "I have a feeling your son's coming soon. Just a feeling." Or maybe it had been way before that, possibly even before she and Justin initially met, when she'd received a phone call about two men in need of a surrogate.

But whatever the case, as Justin sat at the table beside Brian, his foot gently kicking the other man's shoe in time with the sound of Pachelbel filtering into the dining room from the overhead speakers, he bit the inside of his bottom lip and wondered how he could ever even begin to thank this woman. He had no idea. What was there to say?

Labor was going to be induced the next morning, on September 12th, because James was already four days overdue and Emily had begun to break out with PUPPP on her belly and sides, something she said she refused to let "take over her body" like it had with her last pregnancy. Since Emily lived an hour outside of Pittsburgh, she and Charlotte, her best friend and pregnancy coach, had driven into the city early to have dinner with Brian and Justin and to stay the night at the hotel near the hospital.

"I can't wait for you guys to meet your son," Emily said from her seat at the restaurant that night, lips upturned into a gentle smile. "That's why I do this."

"Well, we are really fucking grateful," Justin replied. He took a sip of his wine and held the liquid for a few seconds in his mouth, relishing in the feel of the coolness seeping between his teeth and across his gums, tongue, and palate.

Emily smiled, watching Brian and Justin, and licked her lips. "Y'know, I had a cousin who was gay," she murmured, pulling her napkin from her lap and dabbing at her mouth. "He and his partner were both killed in a car accident seven years ago, and at the time, they were in the process of adopting a baby."

"Shit," Justin said. He brought his eyebrows together and shook his head. "I'm sorry."

"My sister always said it was the universe's way of telling them they can't be gay and have a child." The woman rolled her eyes. "I always said 'fuck the universe.'"

Brian held up his glass in a toast and then downed the remaining few inches of the deep red wine.

"His name was 'James' and his partner's name was 'Dean.'" Emily laughed a little through her nose, albeit sadly. "That was always easy to remember."

Justin felt a kick to his ankle under the table, and he turned his head to look at Brian, whose eyes were wide, a total "What the Fuck?" look painted on his face.

Justin simply nodded his head and smiled. Yeah, Emily was definitely the one.

*****

After dinner, Brian and Justin and Emily and Charlotte went their separate ways, parting on the sidewalk with a faux-cheery, "See you bright and early!" spewing from their lips. Brian wrapped his arm around Justin and pulled him close as they walked to the Corvette, dead silent, thinking.

"So 'James' and 'Dean...'" Justin pondered aloud once they were in the car, strapping on his seat belt and turning to Brian, who cranked the engine and checked his rear view mirror.

"Fucking weird," Brian responded, pulling out onto the street. He rolled his window down a few inches once they hit a stoplight and reached for the pack of cigarettes resting in the cup holder.

Justin eyed the cigarettes, then Brian's face, Brian's face, then the cigarettes, and sighed loudly, holding out one hand for his own cig and cranking down the passenger window with the other. "It is fucking weird," he said, rolling his eyes when Brian told him he thought he'd quit and accepting the Marlboro placed on his palm. He shoved it in between his lips and reached for the little red BIC lighter in the ashtray.

Brian took the lighter from Justin once the other man had successfully lit his cigarette and used it to ignite his own. "It's a sign," he said around his cigarette. "We should name him 'James Dean.'"

Justin took a long pull on his cigarette and breathed the smoke out the corner of his mouth. He quirked a bit of a smile.

Brian inhaled. "Fuck. Tomorrow."

"I know, right?" Justin leaned back in his seat and brought his cigarette to his lips once more, peering out the window at the bright Pittsburgh lights splitting through the dark sky. He took a long, cheek hollowing drag, and blew the smoke out his nostrils. "I feel like I'm not ready," he said quietly, a secret admission. "But sort of like I'll never be ready. Y'know?"

Brian didn't say anything in reply. Instead, he reached over and fidgeted with the radio, switching the station to classic rock and turning up the volume.

They drove the rest of the thirty-five minutes home in almost silence, smoking cigarette after cigarette and listening to the radio, windows down, air flowing in and pushing at the roots of their hair, sending it fluttering in the warmth of September.

When they arrived at the house, Brian parked the car in the driveway and killed the engine, tugging the keys out of the ignition and shoving his finger through the key ring. Nobody made a move to get out, and the two of them just sat there, seat belts unbuckled, breathing in and breathing out.

Brian reached over and touched his finger to the underside of Justin's chin in the dark, slowly pulling him toward him for a kiss. Their lips touched slowly, and it was soft and warm and their mouths tasted like red wine and Worcestershire sauce from dinner.

"Hhhh," Justin breathed, pulling away for a second and then moving back, getting his hands up to stroke the sides of Brian's face. He hadn't shaved since morning and his face was stubbly, just how Justin liked it--just what he loved to feel against his cheeks and his neck and his thighs.

Brian sucked Justin's lips, closed his eyes and breathed him in, reached out and grabbed him under the arms, trying to pull him into the driver's seat with him.

"Hold on," Justin whispered, laughing against the other man's lips. He moved up onto his knees and crawled across the drink holder between the two seats, straddling Brian's lap and snorting when his back pressed against the car horn on the steering wheel, causing it to honk in the still, night air.

"Mm," Brian hummed, going straight for Justin's neck, opening his mouth to the warm, salty flesh and sucking it between his lips, sticking out his tongue and licking a wide, wet stripe across the other man's Adam's apple. "I'm gonna fuck you," he whispered, reaching up to twist his fingers in Justin's hair. "Fuck you so hard. Come in your ass. Make you scream."

"Aah," Justin moaned quietly, moving his head down to kiss Brian's lips once more, then pulling back some and licking Brian's tongue. He started to move gently in his lap, just slowly rocking, holding the other man's face and kissing him, licking him, tasting him.

Brian pushed his hands up under the sides of Justin's shirt and reveled in how hot and smooth his skin was. He wanted to suck every inch of it.

"Are we gonna do this right here?" Justin asked, panting, leaning down to bury his face in Brian's neck, baring his teeth and nipping gently at the flesh, then not so gently, then laving the skin with his tongue.

"Get your pants off."

Justin snorted, quite loudly, and broke into a fit of happy laughter, right into the conjunction of Brian's neck and shoulder. Brian smiled at the feel of hot, moist breath against his skin.

"I can't move," Justin said, wiggling a little between Brian's body and the steering wheel, showing just how tight a space he was in.

"Mm, well..." Brian reached down to the side of the seat and lifted the lever, scooting the seat forward, closer to the steering wheel until Justin's back blew the horn again, then leaned the seat back, giving both of them room to lie at a one hundred degree angle. "Fixed that."

"Sort of," Justin whispered with a huffed laugh, crawling up Brian's hips and lowering his head to kiss the man under him, to suck his lips, grab his hair and groan.

Brian slid his hand down the back of Justin's jeans, cupping his ass and pulling Justin's crotch firmly against his own, then letting up, pulling, then letting up, starting the rhythm that Justin soon took over, palming Brian's shoulders, kissing his forehead and his cheeks, and thrusting his jean-clad cock against Brian's, breathing out hot and sticky all over the other man's mouth.

"Pants off," Brian repeated, pushing at Justin's chest a little, and as he lifted his head to start helping Justin with the task, he noticed that something dark, darker than the night air, was blocking any and all light into the driver's window.

"What the fuck?" He yelled, jumping, grasping Justin's hips. Both men froze.

The figure beat against the car window twice, then receded, doubling over and making fake vomiting sounds, his brown, shaggy hair falling in his face. Christ.

Brian popped the door latch and pushed it open with his knee, one arm still firmly wrapped around Justin's waist. "What the fuck, Gus?" He asked, voice loud, yet not shouting, angry, yet lacking any inflection whatsoever.

Gus gagged as he straightened, crossing his arms across his stomach and shaking his head, quite seriously nauseated. "Oh God, are you guys doing it?" He asked, closing one eye and narrowing the other. "Because if you are, stop."

Brian rolled his eyes. "We're not doing anything anymore." He looked at Justin, who was still sitting in his lap, staring down at him, and added, "Unfortunately."

"Later," Justin murmured, groaning, throwing an arm out the open door and grabbing onto anything he could reach to help him climb out of Brian's lap without falling out of the car and onto the gravel driveway. He willed his erection down, which thankfully, due to the presence of a sixteen-year-old who was currently feigning projectile vomiting, was not that difficult, and somehow managed to remove himself from the car without hitting the ground.

Brian straightened and adjusted the car seat and climbed out behind Justin, apparently finding less success in willing away his erection--either that, or he honestly didn't care--as a rather obvious bulge was still visible at the front of his jeans.

"Gus," he scolded, slamming the car door shut and leaning back against it. "What in the absolute fuck are you doing here?"

The kid sighed, rubbing his fists across his eyes and kicking his feet against the gravel driveway. "I thought you'd be here. You were supposed to be."

"Well, forgive me for leaving my house whenever I damn well please."

"You said you'd be home when I called you yesterday."

Brian rolled his eyes. "What the fuck are you doing here?"

"Addi- Eric just dropped me off, and I thought someone was here because Justin's car's in the driveway and I could see the living room lamp through the window..." He shrugged. "Turns out nobody was here, and I've been hanging out by the pool for the past fucking hour and a half because my cell phone's dead and Mom's got my keychain so I don't have my house key."

Brian scoffed at his son and began making his way toward the house, digging in his pockets for his own key. "One, don't think I didn't hear what--or let me rephrase that, who--you almost said, and two, bitch at me again for something that's not my fault and I'm calling your mother to come get you." He turned to shoot Gus a warning glance and switched on the garage lights, giving him light to unlock the door, which he did before shoving it open so roughly that it banged against the doorstop and came bouncing back.

"Why are you here, Gus?" Justin asked, following Brian into the house and hanging by the door as the teen came traipsing solemnly in after the two of them.

Gus widened his eyes and grit his teeth as if the answer were obvious, and then kicked off his shoes into the corner of the kitchen by the coat hanger. "Kaylie's picking me up from here at ten, which is in like, twenty-five minutes, and we're going to Morgan LaCroix's late night pool party. Remember? I swear to God I texted you this yesterday. And Dad." He shot Brian a dirty look.

"Riiiight," Justin said in monotone, closing the door. He walked over into the main part of the kitchen and absently picked up a dirty dish from the counter, taking it to the sink. "That was the one--"

"Lindsay wouldn't let you go to," Brian finished from by the fridge. He crossed his arms over his chest and sighed.

Gus groaned. "It's not like that," he insisted. "And do not, do not, do not say I can't go. I'll go fucking crazy. Mom just doesn't want me to go because she's afraid I'll get drunk and drown or some stupid shit, which I won't. It's chaperoned and alcohol free."

"Where do your moms think you are now?"

"With Eric, my totally gross, geekazoid lab partner in bio who smells like cottage cheese." He cringed. "I went to his house last week to play in a Halo tournament and the moms now think we're best friends."

"And instead," Brian said, turning to jerk open the fridge for a beer. "Instead, you've been riding around with that fuckwad and now plan on attending a," he changed his voice into a higher pitch, "chaperoned and alcohol free party."

"Yes. Yes." Gus nodded, moving over to reach for the beer bottle Brian pulled from the refrigerator.

Brian smacked his hand away. "You're fucking insane."

"I will be fucking insane if I can't attend this party. It's the first party of my senior year and if I don't go, I'm gonna be an outcast."

"Oh, well, we can't have that."

"No, we most certainly can't." Gus looked desperate. He leaned over the kitchen counter and made another grab for Brian's drink, only to find himself, once again, denied. "Juuuus-tin," he whined, turning to focus on the other man, who was rummaging in the fridge himself. "Say 'yes.'"

Justin pulled out a beer to match Brian's as well as a can of Pepsi, and slid the soda across the counter to Gus, who rolled his eyes upon receiving it. "I'm not saying anything," Justin said, climbing up on the bar stool next to Brian. "But, if your mom doesn't want you to go..."

Gus held up his hand. "Stop talking." He turned back to his dad. "Please? Please, please, please? You have to say 'yes.' My birthday is in two weeks, and--"

"Gus, if you don't shut the fuck up, I'm calling Lindsay."

"No. No, no, no, no."

Brian raised his eyebrow in a challenge, and Gus cowered, lowering his head to the countertop and sighing loudly, exaggeratedly.

"Now," Brian said, pausing to take a drink of his beer. "I don't give a shit if you go to your little party, as long as you're not stupid. And you know exactly what I consider stupid, so don't come crying to me later having been grounded for six more months because you got high on pills or came home smelling like a brewery." He rubbed the space between his eyes with his middle finger. "Or, Christ, knocked up some chick because you fucked her without a condom."

Gus sat up straight, a look of hope washing across his face. "I won't. I swear to Jesus, God, Allah, Mary, Joseph, and...Buddha."

Brian nodded, face expressionless. "And another thing that I consider monumentally stupid is getting caught."

"Absolutely. Stupid. Monumentally. Got it."

"When's the party over?"

"Two."

"How are you getting home?"

"I'm spending the night with Kaylie."

"Wrong answer." Brian reached out to thump Gus on the arm. "Be back here by three, and if you're a second late, I'll call Lindsay."

"Ugh, Dad," Gus groaned, bringing his elbows up to the countertop. "Please. Me and Kaylie like, never see each other outside of school."

"You'll see her plenty in her bikini tonight."

"You suck."

Brian raised an eyebrow. "Take it or leave it."

"Oh, I'm taking it, but you still suck."

Justin snorted, peeling off the wrapper on his beer bottle. "Yeah, Gus, he does," he chuckled naughtily, shooting Brian a look.

Gus narrowed his eyes and looked from Brian to Justin, Justin to Brian. "If that's some kind of gross sexual reference, I'm gonna hurl."

"Sorry," Justin murmured, putting on a fake look of sheepishness and shrugging his shoulders.

"You better cut that out in front of the kid," Gus said, biting back a laugh. "Believe me. There's nothing worse than having parents who are constantly making 'Fuck Me' faces at each other and saying things they don't think their kids understand." The teen cringed, as if remembering something.

"Well," Brian breathed out. "We only have approximately twenty-four hours left, so we better make the most of them..." He turned to Justin, bouncing his eyebrows up and down for effect.

Gus pretended to gag. "It looked like you were making the most out of them out in the car. You two are horndogs."

"What, and you're supposed to be completely pure and chaste?" Brian raised an eyebrow.

"It's different. I'm almost seventeen. You're almost...forty-seven."

"I just turned forty-six, you little asshole."

Justin snorted, pulling the lip of his beer bottle up to his mouth and rolling his eyes at Brian. "Gus," he said after taking a drink. "For some people, it's the same, no matter what age they are." He shrugged. "Seventeen or forty-six, Brian's like--"

"Eeew! Don't tell me!" Gus climbed down off the bar stool. "You guys are seriously traumatizing. And it's that weird traumatization where I'm not sure if you're both totally cool or totally disturbing."

"Both," Justin answered for him, shrugging his shoulders a little and climbing off his own stool. He walked over behind Brian and wrapped his arms around his waist.

The teen stuck out his tongue. "Remember. Twenty-four hours."

"Got it," Brian murmured, grabbing one of Justin's hands from around him and bringing it up to kiss at the knuckles.

At around that time, a car horn sounded, and Gus jumped, a grin suddenly spreading across his face. "Kaylie," he said, face so happy Justin had to smile at how young he looked.

"What did I tell you?" Brian asked, climbing off his stool and moving over to stand in front of his son. He pulled out his wallet and began to flip through it.

"Don't do anything stupid, don't get caught, and be back by three."

Brian handed his son a few bills. "Here's fifty for a cab, which you're taking because you're not riding with any idiotic high schoolers after a fucking party."

Gus nodded, getting up on his toes and pressing a kiss to his father's cheek. "Thanks."

"Have fun, Gus," Justin said, walking over to the boy and placing a hand on his shoulder. "And fair warning: Brian and I are leaving for the hospital at six in the morning, so if you want to go, don't be hung over."

"I told you, it's an alcohol-free party."

Justin shook his head. "No such thing."

Gus smirked. "Whatever." He leaned over and briefly rested his head on Justin's shoulder. "Now, you two get it all out of your systems while I'm gone, 'cause starting tomorrow..."

"We know," Brian and Justin said in unison, rolling their eyes.

*****

When Gus left, after trading phone batteries with Justin so his could be charged while he was gone, Brian and Justin simply stood in the middle of the kitchen and stared at each other.

"Are we truly alone?" Brian asked, bringing his arms up to wrap around Justin's shoulders, pulling the other man to his chest.

"Mm. Unless there are people hiding upstairs, yes." The younger man pressed a kiss to the fabric of Brian's shirt and slid his arms around his back, holding him in a full embrace.

"Good."

"Good?"

"Good."

Justin smirked, leaning his head back to look up at Brian. "So do you wanna finish what we started earlier?"

"What the fuck do you think?"

"Is that a 'yes?'"

"It's a, 'if you don't get your ass upstairs right now, I'll spank you.'"

"Not exactly punishment, but..." Justin licked his lips, taking a step back out of Brian's arms and placing his hands on his hips. "Wanna race?"

And before Brian could even think to respond, Justin had already taken off, dashing out of the kitchen, through the foyer, and up the stairs.

"Fuck," Brian said to himself, beginning a swift walk, following Justin's lead. When he made it to the staircase, he discovered the man sitting at the top of it, shirtless, twisting his shirt in his hands. Brian had never seen anything so hot.

"What are you doooing?" He asked playfully, beginning to ascend the stairs.

Justin grinned, stretching his legs out in front of him and leaning backward, naked back pressing against the cool, hardwood floor. Waiting.

When Brian reached Justin, he paused on the second stair, one foot on either side of Justin's thighs, and looked down, prepared to grab the body below him. But just as he leaned down and outstretched his arms, Justin pulled his legs up and wrapped them around those of Brian, catching him off guard and pulling him down with him onto the second floor landing.

"What the fuck?" Brian grumbled, pressing his forehead to Justin's and ending his speech with a hard kiss.

"Sorry," Justin responded in a fake apologetic voice, reaching up to grasp the sides of Brian's face, pulling him in closer. "I like to play rough."

*****

They did eventually make it to the bedroom, after a raucous bit of foreplay-wrestling and making out on the floor, and by the time Brian pushed Justin down on the bed and climbed on top of him, sliding his hands up and across the other man's chest, both men were sweating profusely, faces red and eyes shiny with happiness.

"Goddammit, get your fucking pants off," Brian breathed into Justin's neck, stomach jumping with laughter. He moved his hands down Justin's sides, slipping his fingertips into his jeans and tugging.

Justin reached down and began to unfasten his pants, which was quite difficult due to the fact that there was a man feverishly sucking and kissing at his neck and jaw while trying to rip his jeans and underwear to shreds with his bare hands.

"Hold on, hold on," Justin laughed, wiggling a bit to get Brian to move back and then unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans. Brian hummed, turned on, and pushed against Justin's chest with one hand, holding him flat to the bed while he used his other hand to roughly pull Justin's jeans and underwear down off his thighs.

When Justin felt cool air across his cock and upper thighs, he immediately got his hands up under Brian's shirt, pushing it upward until it found itself bunched under Brian's armpits, waiting for the owner to sit up and free it completely. But Brian never took the bait, for the next thing Justin knew, the man was moving his mouth down Justin's body, down, down, down the center of his chest, across his belly button and the curls of pubic hair inches below, until it landed on the tip of Justin's cock, sucking hard once, then twice, before moving on to the soft, warm skin at his inner thigh.

"Fuck," Justin whispered, spreading his legs as much as possible within the confines of his jeans in order to give Brian better access. Brian reached his hands up, rubbing across Justin's nipples, tweaking them, as he kissed and sucked at every inch of visible skin from Justin's hipbone to mid-thigh, leaving soft pink marks on the pale flesh of his legs and pubic area that would eventually darken to red, then purple.

"Shirt off," Justin moaned at one point, making another grab for Brian's shirt, the collar this time, grasping the fabric and trying to pull it over Brian's head.

This time, Brian took the cue and pulled away from his ministrations to tug off his shirt, tossing it across the room, before doing much the same with his pants, which had begun to practically cut off the circulation to his dick.

He then moved back to Justin's jeans and took hold, gently sliding them the rest of the way down and off Justin's legs.

God, Justin was perfect, lying there all cream-colored against the dark sheets, shiny with sweat, with red cheeks and pink, well-kissed and sucked thighs. Brian wanted to devour him whole, wanted to take a fucking bite out of that man, that man who somehow managed to turn him on beyond belief--still turn him on beyond belief--after going on seventeen years. Fuck.

Brian took a deep breath and leaned back down, hovering over the now completely nude Justin and lowering his head, sticking out his tongue and tracing the outline of Justin's semi-parted lips.

Justin smiled faintly, wrapping his arms around Brian's neck and pulling him in closer. He breathed hot, hot breath against his skin, then stuck out his own tongue, holding it still until Brian outstretched his, too, both tongues touching, then beginning a slow dance, licking at each other in the air between the mouths they belonged to.

Brian slid his hands into Justin's sweat-damp hair and tangled his fingers in the soft strands, tugging gently, not enough to hurt, and getting to business, bringing his mouth down all the way on Justin's and kissing hard, almost painfully so, sucking Justin's lips and tongue and biting down faintly, nipping the skin, before licking every surface, every crevice of Justin's mouth.

"Gonna fuck you," Brian breathed in-between kisses and licks, moving his right hand down to grasp at Justin's cock, which was slowly dripping precum, dragging a line of the liquid across Brian's abdomen each time he moved.

"Yeah," Justin whispered in approval, tilting his head back at the sensation of a hand fisting his cock, slowly stroking up and down. He squeezed his eyes shut. "Fuck me."

"Want me to?"

"Mmmyeah."

"Want me to shove my dick up your ass?" Kiss to the neck. "Move in you real slow? 'Til you're begging?"

"Yeah," Justin repeated, pulling Brian's face closer to his own, until their noses were pressed together almost to pain. "Fuck me." Kiss. "Come inside my ass 'til your cum's running out my asshole." Deep kiss.

Brian withdrew his hand from Justin's cock and lined up his own against it, gently thrusting and beginning a slow, steady rhythm.

"Want me to lick my cum out of your ass?" He asked sexily, grasping Justin's thighs and tugging upward until the other man wrapped his legs around Brian's lower back, enabling Brian to rub his cock against Justin's balls. "Then kiss you? Feed it to you?"

Justin moaned, licking any bit of Brian's mouth and face he could, fingers sliding in the sweat from Brian's temples and slipping into his hair. "Lube."

"Tell me."

"Fuck me. Fuck me."

Brian kissed Justin deeply, pulling away and then going back for more, kissing him until both men were breathless, soaked with sweat and about to burst. Quickly, Brian sat up and reached to the bedside table for the lube. He popped the cap and squirted a liberal amount in the palm of his hand, using it to coat his cock, and the extra he worked onto his fingers in order to prepare the other man for a good, hot fuck.

Brian pressed two lubed fingers at Justin's entrance and pushed in, leaning down and sighing against Justin's lips when his fingers became engulfed in slick, wet warmth. He twisted in further, scissored his fingers, and grinned once he brushed Justin's prostate, eliciting a sharp cry from the younger man, who flexed his toes and begged to be fucked, God, please, yes, fuck me.

"Oh, don't worry," Brian whispered, planting a kiss on Justin's cheek and slowly withdrawing his fingers. "I will."

He wiped off his hand on the bed sheets, knowing he was just going to have to throw them in the laundry anyway, and reached for his cock, rubbing it along Justin's crack until it found its destination.

And when he eventually pushed in, a warm, wet cock sliding inside an even warmer, wetter channel, he was bent over the other man, hands in his hair, kissing him softly, sweetly on the mouth.

"Mm," Justin hummed, feeling the wonderful stretch, the satisfying burn, and the fullness, such fullness, that sent his toes curling and heart pounding, breath coming faster and faster. Brian was kissing him, thrusting achingly slowly, his cock moving in deep, then receding an inch or two, then moving in again, driving Justin crazy right from the start. He threw his arms around Brian's ribs, fingernails digging into his back and his own back arching slightly with each thrust.

That lasted for what felt like hours, this intimate jumble of gently rocking limbs, kissing lips, and fingers tugging hair. Justin didn't think it was ever going to end, and fuck, he didn't want to. He wanted it to last forever.

"Tell me when you're about to come," Brian murmured, pulling back slightly and stroking his thumbs across Justin's eyebrows. He sped his thrusts some, getting up on his elbows, arching his back and tucking his head under Justin's chin, tongue poking out to lick the sweat dripping from the hot skin there.

"Oh God, oh God," Justin chanted, leg muscles twitching and skin burning hot, hot, hotter. And every time he was about to come, every time that build would start somewhere inside him, spreading to his balls and then to his cock, he'd push against Brian's chest and squeeze his eyes shut, trying to hold it back.

Brian watched him, watched him trying to keep his orgasm at bay, watched him bite his bottom lip and scrunch up his face, and Christ, Brian almost came. Every time, he almost came. Just that face... God, it was the hottest thing Brian had ever seen in his life. Hotter than any porn he'd seen, any guys he'd fucked in his past... Hotter than anything.

After Justin had calmed the final time, Brian dipped his head and bit at the skin over the pulse point of his neck, sucking there, thrusting faster, harder, his balls slapping against Justin's ass, cock pulling back further, slamming back in deeper, grazing Justin's prostate repeatedly in the process.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, Brian," Justin whispered, leaning his head backward, harder into the pillow, giving Brian easier access to his neck. His breath was coming in loud gasps, leg muscles straining around Brian's waist, cock sandwiched between his stomach and that of the other man, being stroked each time Brian slid back and forth against and inside Justin's body.

"I'm... I'm..." He pushed Brian's chest a little, but Brian wouldn't budge--simply thrust harder, faster, more, more, reaching his hand between the two bodies to grab at Justin's cock.

It was too much. Too, too, fucking much. Brian groaned, moving his mouth from Justin's neck to his lips, sucking there, licking there, moaning against skin and shutting his eyes as the pressure began to build, growing from that fiery place behind his balls and spreading outward, into every limb, every bone, every layer of skin.

Justin was coming, his ass contracting around Brian's cock and his dick shooting out spurt after spurt of whitish fluid, and that was it. That was all it took for Brian to thrust in one more time, hard, and moan, flooding Justin's ass with his cum, pulsing hot life out and into the other man, before collapsing against him, body shaking and wet with sweat, spit, and semen, voice hoarse.

"Fuck," Justin whispered, tightening his arms around Brian's neck and opening his eyes to stare up at the dim ceiling. His limbs were wobbly, like he'd run a marathon, he could feel cum dripping from his ass, and he wanted to just close his eyes and melt with Brian into a puddle, soaking up into the bed sheets and disappearing for a while.

Brian hummed, lifting his head a little to look Justin in the eye. He moved his hand up and sifted his fingers through the man's blond locks for a moment, before lying back down, breathing out a happy sigh against Justin's chest.

*****

When Justin got back from the bathroom later, it was only a quarter 'til midnight, but Brian was already asleep, sprawled out naked in the center of the bed with Justin's cum drying on his belly.

Justin smirked, huffing a bit of a laugh through his nose, and moved over to get his laptop from where it was sitting in a chair, hooked up to the charger. He wasn't that tired yet, even though he knew he needed to go to bed since he'd have to wake up at five. There was a nervous energy inside him, right in his chest, and it made him bouncy, jittery almost.

He took his laptop to bed with him, shoved Brian until he reluctantly rolled over about a foot, and then went to check his email.

He was halfway through writing a message to Christie, his old New York roommate, when the phone rang. It was the house phone, too, which was pretty fucking weird since it was midnight, so he closed his laptop, climbed out of bed, and walked out into the hall, grabbing the cordless phone off its wall mount.

"Hello?" He answered, voice a bit scratchy from both the time of night and the screaming sex he'd just had.

It was Lindsay, her voice high-pitched with worry, saying, "Justin, I need to talk to Brian."

His heart sped a little as he told her to hold on and trudged back into the bedroom to Brian, who was sitting up in bed, rubbing at his eyes. "Lindsay," Justin mouthed, handing the phone over and climbing up on the bed to listen.

"What the fuck, Lindsay?" Brian greeted, face twisted in annoyance. He ran a hand impatiently through his hair, and suddenly, after hearing what the woman had to say, froze, still as stone.

Justin placed a hand on Brian's thigh, eyes widening and ears straining, trying to hear.

"He's fucking okay?" Brian asked harshly into the phone, and it was a question, though it sounded more like a demand. The man was breathing through his mouth like he did when he was shocked, scared, or both, and Justin had a gnawing feeling in his stomach from nervous nausea.

Brian brought his index finger up to rub at his lips, eyes focused somewhere on the disheveled bed sheets, and nodded to no one in particular. "I'm on my way."

"What?" Justin asked the moment Brian hung up the phone, already up and grabbing underwear for him and Brian from the dresser.

"Hospital," was all Brian said as he accepted the briefs tossed to him.

Justin froze. "What? Why?"

"Kaylie wrecked on the way to the party. Gus broke his arm and two ribs, the girl walked away without a scratch."

"Are you serious?"

"No, I'm lying."

Justin buried his face in his hands and shook his head. "Shit!"

"My thoughts exactly." Brian climbed out of bed, pulled on his underwear, and went straight for the jeans and T-shirt lying on the floor and desk, respectively. "Stupid fucking kid. Why the fuck did I let him go?"

"At least he's okay. Christ."

Brian nodded. "There is that." He pulled on his clothes and grabbed his keys and cell phone from where they lay on top of the dresser. "Coming?"

Justin nodded, zipping up his pants, snatching his own cell from the charger, and following Brian out the bedroom door.

*****

The men arrived at Allegheny General at one o'clock on the dot, clothes rumpled, smelling and looking a little worse for wear. Gus was lying in a hospital bed in room 204, with Melanie and Lindsay on either side of him and Jenny in a corner chair watching Animal Planet and eating a pack of peanut butter crackers. A large, slightly bloody bandage covered almost the entirety of Gus's left cheek, and his arm, from the elbow down, was in a plaster cast. He was crying like a three-year-old, tears streaming down his face, mumbling something to Lindsay that neither Brian nor Justin could understand.

"Jesus Christ, Gus," Brian said, walking over to his son. He leaned down, kissed him between the eyebrows, and smoothed his hair back. "What the hell?"

"He's crying 'cause he's afraid a scar will ruin his 'perfect skin,'" Jenny said brattily, kicking her feet up on a tray of cotton swabs, bandages, and tongue depressors. "Not because he's in pain."

"Shut up, Jenny!" Gus yelled, closing his eyes tight so that three tears were pressed out and sent on their way to stream down his cheeks dramatically.

Brian wiped his kid's tears away with his thumbs like he used to long ago, and told him he'd pay for plastic surgery.

"According to the doctor, there will be minimal scarring," Lindsay assured in that warm, motherly voice of hers. "The cut's long, but it's not that deep."

Gus shook his head. "I'll look like the freaking Phantom of the Opera."

Brian snorted. "I'll buy you a mask." He crouched down beside the bed and said, in a low voice, "Tell me what happened in five sentences or less."

"Kaylie's the shittiest driver in the history of the world, and if I'd had access to my own car, none of this would've ever happened." He huffed. "There. And only one sentence."

"Actually," Melanie interjected, standing from her seat and crossing her arms over her chest. "None of this would've ever happened if Brian had stepped up as a parent--not some immature, drug using Peter Pan--while you were under his care, and said you couldn't go."

"Mel," Justin said sternly, shaking his head at her in a silent "Don't."

The woman scoffed. "Thank God Gus is alive."

"Mel, I'm so glad you feel qualified to make such assumptions about me, when Gus had been off joy riding with that asshole Addison while he was under your care," Brian shot back at the woman, rising from his crouched position and grabbing Melanie's chair, taking a seat.

"Fuck, Dad!" Gus yelled, squeezing his eyes shut. "You didn't!"

Brian shrugged. "Sorry, Sonny Boy. You got caught."

"Get the fuck out of here," Melanie ordered Brian, pointing toward the door.

The man raised an eyebrow and looked from her to Gus, Gus to her, and shook his head. "No."

At that moment, Justin's cell rang, and he hurriedly snatched it from his pocket and stepped out into the corridor.

"Hello?"

"Justin," came the other voice--a female. "It's Charlotte. Hospital. Now."

*****

The next three hours went by in a blur.

Justin ended the call with Charlotte, dashed back into the hospital room at lightening speed, and just stood there in the doorway, everything suddenly hitting him like a ton of bricks. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

"Baby's coming," he said, more quietly than he'd intended, eyes moving straight to Brian's. He felt like a small animal was in his chest, clawing to get out.

Brian's jaw dropped and he pulled his right hand away from Gus's fingers, which he'd been idly playing with, shoving it through his hair. "What? Now?"

Justin nodded, sucking his lips into his mouth and biting down for a long moment. "Her water broke fifteen minutes ago. She and Charlotte are on their way here."

"Fucking fuck!" Brian exclaimed, standing from his seat and seemingly not knowing what to do with himself. Everyone in the room was cheering, Gus was wincing with rib pain, yet yelling, "Woohoo!" like a crazy person, and Brian simply stood there with his eyebrows raised, staring at Justin.

And Justin stared back with a similar expression on his face, biting his lips until they stung. He shook his head a little in disbelief, and then leaned back against the door frame, giving up and breaking into a face-splitting grin.

That's when Brian sighed and walked over to him, bending down and pressing a hard kiss to the man's lips that was filled with everything he didn't know how to say.

When they broke apart, both men were smiling.

*****

Within a span of two minutes, the three adults in the room had divvied up who was calling whom, and were sitting around Gus's hospital room making the calls. Justin had Jennifer, Molly, and Daphne; Brian had Debbie/Carl and Michael/Ben; Lindsay had Emmett; and Mel had Ted/Blake.

"You guys can't leave me here alone," Gus told Lindsay once she'd finished with her call. "I'm going up to the maternity ward."

Lindsay sighed, moving over to her son's side and stroking his hair. "Sweetie, you need your rest. The baby will probably be here when you wake up, and we'll see about you going up to see him."

"Uh, no. Not happening." Gus shook his head. "Dad'll get me out," he said, eyeing Brian, who was on the phone with Michael.

The woman smiled faintly, looking over at Brian and then at her son, who looked so much like him. She leaned in, kissed his head, and whispered into his ear, "We'll see."

After all calls were made and approximately ten people were on their way to the hospital at two in the morning, Brian and Justin left Gus's room after receiving enough hugs to last them for a year, and made their way up to the fourth level, legs wobbly like Jell-O.

"Oh my God," Justin whispered in the elevator, leaning against Brian's chest. "This is so fucking crazy."

Brian ran his hand through the other man's hair and smirked. "I'm just glad I fucked you before we came here," he said. "Because it could--most unfortunately--be days."

Justin burst out laughing--a quiet, tired laugh--and nodded.

The elevator dinged, signifying that they were on Level 4: Maternity Ward, and when the doors opened, the two men were still holding each other in a loose embrace.

"Taylor-Kinney?" A heavyset woman in scrubs asked from the nurse's station the moment Brian and Justin stepped out of the elevator. She was holding a clipboard and clicking a ball point pen over and over compulsively in her right hand.

"Yes," Justin confirmed, walking swiftly up to the desk.

The nurse nodded and tucked her clipboard under one arm. "The young woman you're looking for was just taken back to the delivery room a few minutes ago." She moved out from behind the desk and made her way toward the swinging doors. "If you two will wait here, I'll go check to see if I can bring you back to visit with her."

Justin thanked her, and once she had gone, inhaled deeply, bringing his bottom lip up and blowing the air back out into his face.

When the nurse returned, she asked the men to have a seat in the waiting room for a few minutes because Emily was about to be administered an epidural.

"Her cervix is dilated to six centimeters," she said with a smile, walking Brian and Justin ten feet down the hall and waving them into the rather small, but cozy, room to the right. "It shouldn't be long. She'll be entering transition labor soon, and from there on out, it's a push to the finish line."

"Where the prize is a small, screaming child," Brian completed for her in monotone, taking a seat in one of the waiting room chairs and grabbing the television remote.

By "a few minutes," the nurse--Annette--must've meant "an hour," because it was going on three-fifteen before Brian and Justin were summoned to the delivery room, and by then, the waiting area was packed with family. Jennifer had practically attached herself to her son's side, sitting by him on the sofa with her digital camera all ready to snap photos of her grandson, and Debbie had done much of the same with Brian.

"I'm going to be a grandma again!" She'd exclaimed weepily, bringing a Kleenex up to wipe at her eyes.

It was a blessing when Annette finally crooked her finger at Brian and Justin, motioning for them to come with her. Sure, they wouldn't be staying in the room for long, but ten minutes of peace and quiet would do wonders for their psychological health.

When they entered the delivery room, Justin was kind of shocked at how nice it was. He'd visited Daphne's briefly when she'd given birth to Frankie at a hospital in Harrisburg, and hers wasn't much more than a larger, yet standard, hospital room. This delivery room had attractive, tiled floors, several comfy chairs, a plasma screen television, and red curtains on the windows.

Emily waved to Brian and Justin from the bed, her face red and streaked with tears and her hair pulled up into a messy, frizzy bun. Charlotte was by her bedside and a nurse was standing in front of a monitor, checking the frequency of Emily's contractions.

"You look like hell," Brian said, wiggling his fingers at her.

Charlotte laughed, but Emily seemed a bit out of it, looking from Brian to Justin but appearing to not know what to say.

Justin said "hello" to her and smiled, before asking Charlotte how she was doing.

The woman tucked her shoulder-length, highlighted blonde hair behind her ears and answered, "Em's amazing. They say there shouldn't be more than two hours left."

"She's at seven centimeters," the nurse piped in from behind the computer, as if that was such a significant number to Brian and Justin. "The pushing starts at ten."

Right about then, Emily scrunched her face up a little, and Charlotte turned to rub at her arm.

Justin walked over to stand by the bed. "Emily," he said, grasping onto the side bar of the hospital bed and smiling. "I just wanted to say 'thank you.' And that's really all I can say, because nothing else..." He shrugged.

Tears were streaming down the woman's face then, and Justin didn't know if it was because of what he was saying or the contractions. But Emily looked at him for a few seconds, then at Brian, and nodded. And though she didn't say anything, and instead, gripped the sides of the bed until her knuckles were white, Justin knew that she got it.

*****

James Dean Taylor-Kinney was born at 4:58 AM on September 12, 2017.

Beforehand, Emily had asked not to see him, so after his birth, the doctor clipped his umbilical cord and handed him off into the nurse's care, where his nose and mouth were suctioned, allowing him to breathe.

And then he began to cry.

*****

"Oh shit, that's him!" Justin exclaimed, hearing the cry all the way from where he and Brian resided in their room several doors down. Emily had been the only woman giving birth in the maternity ward at that time, so it had to be.

Justin rubbed his eyes with his fist, feeling the urge to just...fucking cry for some reason, but he held the tears back, leaning against the door frame, Brian's arm thrown around his shoulders as they waited.

They'd been told that after his birth, he'd be given the APGAR test and afterward would be taken to be bathed, weighed, measured, and printed, and that Brian and Justin would be invited to watch through the window.

Justin fidgeted with the hospital bracelet he was wearing, identifying him as the father of 'Baby Taylor-Kinney,' and tried to stay still. Everything inside him was telling him to run down the hall, toward the cry, but he knew he had to wait. He heard Brian laugh a little through his nose, and then felt strong hands on his shoulders, massaging them.

"Thanks," Justin murmured, rolling his neck from side to side. Brian's massages always helped relax him. But right as Justin was calming down, he heard the sound of a door open, and down the hospital corridor, a nurse came out of Emily's room with a warmer on wheels, making her way up the hall toward the nursery.

"I'm going to see him," Justin said defiantly, simply taking off, jogging the fifty or so feet to the woman and showing her his bracelet. Brian followed closely behind, and by the time he reached Justin, the other man was hovered over the baby warmer, staring down at his tiny, pink son with tears in his eyes.

James was swollen, naked, and a little slimy from birth, with white goop in the corners of his nose and the creases of his eyes. He was wearing a blue and yellow striped cap that was pink in certain parts with blood, and his head was a bit temporarily elongated from the birth canal.

But, Jesus Christ, he was beautiful.

"You two have a handsome son," the nurse told them, smiling happily and beginning to push the cart through the open door to the tiny nursery waiting room. "If you could just wait right in here, you can watch while I'm getting him ready to make his debut."

Justin nodded, grasping Brian's hand and walking with him into the room and up to the viewing window. There were a few stray tears on his cheeks and his eyes were bloodshot and red, and Brian looked at him and knew that, had Justin not been holding it in, he'd be bawling.

Brian wrapped his arm around his shoulders and pulled him in close, leaning down to kiss affectionately at his temple.

*****

James weighed in at a healthy eight pounds and measured twenty-one inches from head to toe.

After what felt like ages, the nurse finally diapered and swaddled him in a white, pink, and blue blanket, putting a new, solid blue hat on his head and placing him back in his bed to be taken to the room Brian had "rented" for the night.

Brian and Justin were waiting when he arrived, sitting in chairs because the bed was completely covered with the diaper bag and Brian and Justin's overnight bags Michael had picked up from their house on the way to the hospital.

"Here he is!" The nurse announced with a grin, wheeling him near the bed and waiting while Brian and Justin got up to come over to him. "He's healthy and good lookin' and that's pretty much all you could ask for."

Justin smiled, crossing the room to stand by his son, who was sleeping. "Thank you," he said, not taking his eyes off James's face. He reached in and stroked his cheek with the side of his index finger, and then turned to the nurse, silently asking if it was okay to pick him up.

She nodded at him and told the two men to "enjoy that sweet baby," and that someone will be in several times throughout the day to check on him.

When she left, Justin picked James up, careful to support his head, and held him in his arms, tears flowing freely down his cheeks and dripping off his chin and onto his shirt. Brian came up behind him and rested his chin on his shoulder, reaching a hand out to tenderly stroke the pink skin of James's face.

"He's fucking beautiful," Brian whispered, kissing Justin's jaw.

Justin smiled a little and nodded his head. "He's perfect."

"Lemme see his hair." Brian gently pulled the baby’s hat halfway off and smiled when he saw the thin dusting of white-blond hair on his mostly bald head.

"Looks like you're gonna have to deal with two blonds, now," Justin said happily, slowly turning his body and walking toward the chair he'd sat in earlier, taking a seat. "You wanna hold him?" He asked Brian, motioning with his head for the man to come sit down beside him.

Brian nodded and moved over to his chair, dropping down and waiting for Justin to hand James to him.

Once the baby was in his arms, Brian felt something in his eyes and throat, but he blinked and swallowed it back, not letting it show. Or at least he thought he didn't let it show, but seconds later Justin was leaning over the baby--their baby, James--and kissing Brian softly, so softly, on the lips, then the cheek, then the neck, and then he leaned over and kissed the baby's cheek and tiny nose.

"I love you," Justin said to Brian, resting his head on the other man's shoulder and staring down at James, who he couldn't stop staring at.

And Brian only waited two beats before he answered, "I love you, too."

*****

The family came in at around six-thirty, some of them toting balloons they'd bought from the gift shop on the ground floor, and Deb carrying a gigantic bag filled with food from the Diner for Brian and Justin, as well as James's body weight in lemon bars. But all balloons and food were forgotten once the crowd got a look at the baby in Brian's arms.

Justin could've sworn there was a collective, "Awwwww!" followed by a collective, "I want to hold him!" followed by a line that formed and stretched almost to the door.

Jennifer got to hold him first, then Debbie, then Molly, Michael, Daphne, Lindsay, and by the time James had been passed around to most of the people in the room, his nurse was coming in to check his vitals and Debbie was trying to feed her lemon bars.

When the nurse took the baby and placed him back in his bed, Brian slipped away and went down to the second floor, room 204, and showed up at Gus's bedside with a smirk on his face.

The kid was half-asleep, having just woken up moments ago when a nurse came in to take his blood pressure, and he looked up at his dad drowsily, wanting nothing more than to close his eyes and sleep for a thousand years. The painkillers were finally kicking in.

"Hey," Brian said, reaching down to tug the blanket off Gus's legs. "Let's go. I'm busting you out."

"Seriously?"

"Seriously. You have a brother who looks like a miniature Justin mixed with a piglet upstairs, waiting on you."

"Yes!" Gus hollered, before climbing out of bed too fast for his ribs and suddenly wincing with pain.

"You all right?"

"Fine. Ribs hurt. Ouchies."

"Yeah, fractured ribs hurt like a bitch." Brian grabbed Gus's good arm and pulled it around his back, so that the kid was leaning on him. "Come on, I'll help." And with that, Brian helped his sixteen, almost seventeen-year-old son escape his hospital room in favor of the fourth floor maternity ward.

When they arrived in room 419, the majority of the family had gone home, save for the Marcus-Petersons and the Taylors, who were already, with their innate femaleness, addicted and hopelessly in love with James.

"Look who's here," Brian announced, walking with Gus to an empty chair and helping him sit down.

"Christ!" Melanie hissed, shooting Brian a dirty look. "He's supposed to be resting."

The man rolled his eyes and moved over to where the woman was sitting, holding James. "Give me my son," he said, reaching for the baby, "so that my other son can hold him."

Tears filled Justin's eyes then, and he reached up and wiped them away quickly, before anyone could see. Jesus, he'd cried a lot in the past seven hours.

Brian pulled James up and into his arms and walked him over to Gus, who was sitting with a pillow in his lap and his casted arm resting on the armrest, his other arm poised, ready to accept the baby. Gently, the man placed James in Gus's free arm just right, so that his head rested in the crook of Gus's elbow and the majority of his body on the pillow.

"God, he's cute," Gus said, smiling down at his baby "brother," who was awake and looking up at him with dark, newborn blue eyes. "He's got Justin's nose and mouth, and his hottie mama's eye shape, I think."

Jennifer nodded in agreement, wrapping an arm around Justin and kissing his cheek. "Have you seen Emily since she gave birth?"

Justin shook his head no and sighed. "I'm sending her flowers and a letter this afternoon when I get the chance, but I think we're doing everything on paper from now on." He shrugged. "It's a lot easier for her this way, I'm sure."

"I'll bet." Jennifer looked away sadly. "But she certainly helped you make a beautiful baby."

Justin couldn't agree more.

*****

When everyone finally left, leaving Brian, Justin, and James together and alone for the first time in three hours, Justin gently placed the sleeping baby in his bed and went to join Brian on the hospital bed. He kicked off his shoes and climbed up, wrapping his arms around the other man and kissing is chest.

"This is insane," he whispered. He closed his eyes and wanted so badly to go to sleep.

Brian nodded, lowering his copy of Out and reaching to the table beside the bed for the bag of food Debbie had brought.

*****

After the men had eaten, they turned on their sides and stared at each other, smiling faintly.

"Y'know," Brian whispered, raising an eyebrow. "If the kid's sleeping habits keep it up like this, you and I will be having more sex than previously anticipated."

Justin snorted, turning his head to laugh into his pillow. "That'd be nice. Except he's only been on Earth for five hours. I have a feeling these rather extreme sleeping habits won't last."

"Well, while they exist, we may as well take advantage of them... What do you say?"

The younger man raised his eyebrows and shrugged, a grin tugging at his mouth. "It's worth a shot."

Brian reached over and cupped Justin's chin in his hand, pulling him in for a kiss.

And not three seconds after their lips initially touched, a knock came to the door, killing on the spot any mood they may have been working their way toward.

"Fuck," Brian whispered harshly, groaning and pulling away, twisting over onto his back.

Justin chuckled and climbed out of bed, checking to make sure the knock hadn't woken the baby and then making his way over to the door to let the nurse in.

He had a feeling that it was going to be a long first year.

But like with everything else, he also had a feeling that he and Brian would get through it.

They always did.


End file.
